


Stupid Cupid

by Caswingsuniverse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Businessman Dean, Cupid Castiel, F/M, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Soulmates, Wall Sex, some sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7964851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caswingsuniverse/pseuds/Caswingsuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Divorced and working hard for a promotion, Dean Winchester is tired of coming home to an empty apartment. He wants someone to love and care for, someone who will love him back and understand him. On a whim, Dean decides to request a cupid. Some fluffy cherub can handle finding his soulmate while he works, but he get’s more than he bargained for when Castiel shows up at his door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic that I wrote for the DeanCas Tropefest with Cenedra Riva. Please check out the art on her tumblr or on the DeanCas Tropefest tumblr :)

In the soft after silence of a productive phone call, Dean Winchester sits back in his office chair. He swivels it around, arms behind his head as he smiles at the view of downtown. Car lights blink off the asphalt and glass windows, sparkling in Dean’s eyes. It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, meaning rush hour traffic gives him an excuse to remain in his office until 6. Zachariah would be pleased to see that he’s logging more hours anyway. Dean can imagine the man’s bird like face pinched forward in that sleazy smile as he slides a white slip of paper across his desk. Dean’s so close to this promotion he can taste it. He sighs, turning back to his desk to begin sorting through his emails. 

Besides that, Dean never enjoyed the idea of going home to his empty apartment. The whole place feels stagnant, nothing like the place he shared with Lisa or his old bedroom at home. Those places were full of life: dirty laundry, cassette tapes and CDs, school work, books, posters, and some trash. It smelled lived in, if not a little gross, nothing like the various fabric softeners Dean started using because he still couldn’t find one he liked. 

His job is simple really. Pitch ideas to the big boys, follow orders, act civil at parties, don’t flirt with co-workers. Dean had always been good at rules, even if he seemed like the type of person who preferred to break them. And occasionally he did, throwing in a couple of winks at some of the receptionists for good measure. Beyond that, he tried to stay on his bosses’ good sides. It had done him well since his discharge from the Marines, and he soon found himself as one of the top designers in the company. 

The list of unanswered emails didn’t prove long enough to occupy Dean’s attention for even a half hour and the man finds himself cast into boredom. He goes back to watching traffic with a frown. Pulling out his phone, he calls Sam. 

His younger brother answers the phone after the third ring, some slight annoyance creeping into his voice. “What, Dean?”

Dean chuckles, imagining bitch face 34 on Sam’s face. “Just thought I’d check up on ya.”

“Dean, you called me at lunch.”

Dean shrugs, opening up Google and wiggling his fingers over the keyboard. “So I hover, what else is knew.”

“I’d be nice if you didn’t call me every time you’re bored would be nice. Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Why, ya busy, Sammy?” 

“It’s Sam. And yeah, I’m in the middle of grading papers for your information. Some of us have jobs that go past 5 o’clock.” 

Snorting, Dean pulls up an online pool game on his computer. Ben had shown him a game similar to this one the last time he visited, bouncing excitedly in Dean’s desk chair as he brought up the game. Dean clicks away at his mouse, tongue sticking out as he tries to time his shots. 

“That’s just because I’m better at my job,” Dean says mockingly, grunting in satisfaction when he starts to get balls into the pockets. 

Sam sighs and the sound of paper shuffling fills the background. Dean can imagine his brother sitting at a large mahogany desk, books stacked messily at the corners with essays on lore in literature scattered across the middle. “Aren’t you normally getting ready for Ben to come over around this time?”

Dean stops clicking his mouse and closes his eyes. An unsettling feeling, almost like a small stone in his gut, fills him. “Lisa made plans to take him to the movies.”

Sam’s silent as he analyzes the stiff tone in Dean’s voice. It doesn’t take long for him to piece everything together. “She introducing him to the new guy she’s with?”

That was always one of the things that Dean hated and loved about talking with Sam. He didn’t really have to say what he was feeling out loud, Sam just understood from subtle cues. 

Dean runs a hand through his hair, frowning when his palm comes back sticky from the gel he put in that morning. He rubs his palm on his slacks. “Yeah…”

“Dean, it’s been years since you guys broke up, I thought you moved on from this.”

“I don’t have a problem with her finding someone new. She deserves a good relationship. I just don’t wanna miss out on time with Ben, ya know? What if he likes this guy more than me?”

Sam shakes his head on the other end, and Dean can tell because his brother’s air brushes across the receiver. “I really doubt that’s going to happen. Ben loves you. Even if he likes this other guy, he’ll still want to see you. Unless you fuck up royally.”

“How comforting,” Dean retorts, smiling slightly at his computer when he gets the 8 ball in. This is nothing like the real thing, but it vaguely reminds him of his younger days. He bristles a little at the thought of even having “younger days”, but the past 9 years had been enough to diminish the cocky attitude he’d had since he was in diapers. 

What used to be late nights hustling pool and drinking is now working in an office twice the size of his bedroom, having a paycheck with more than one zero tacked on the end and having partial custody of his 8-year-old son. And, surprisingly, he’s okay with it. The life he was living before, it was even lonelier than the one he lives now. At least he has a nice place to go home to, at least his brother is as successful as he is, at least he has a son that he can still see. 

“I’ll let you get back to grading all your nerd papers, I’m gonna head home soon.”

“Alright, Dean. Drive safe.”

“I always do.” 

After hanging up, Dean starts closing all the tabs on his computer so he can log out. Upon closing the game, his screen fills with a pulsing pink ad. Dean’s about to close it when his eyes trace over the wide letters. "No time to find the perfect date? Feeling like something more is missing? Look no further than Cupid’s Company." 

Dean freezes for a second, staring at the bubble letters. He laughs quietly to himself at the ridiculous color and name. He closes the ad and logs out of the computer. Putting on his jacket and turning off the lights in his office, he tries to erase the shadow of pink from behind his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean holds the remote in his hand, flipping through channel after channel in search of something good. A few empty beer bottles and Chinese take-out boxes litter the coffee table in front of him. Dr. Sexy, MD flickers onto the screen and a hint of smile graces Dean’s lips. He slides down the back of his leather recliner, legs spreading into a more comfortable position. If he’s going to be honest with himself, he’ll probably fall asleep here tonight. 

The sultry voices of the doctors and nurses fill his small living room and it immediately starts to calm his mind. Work kept him in a constant buzz, mind always on alert. Always be on his toes, that’s what his father and his short stint in the Marines taught him. He’d given the core 4 years of his life, 4 years he won’t get back. But they paid for college. He never was good at school like his kid brother, didn’t land any of those fancy scholarships. All he had going for him was his strength in wrestling and knowledge of car mechanics.

Dean wishes he could say his tour in Iraq didn’t mess with his head, but he’d found lying never makes him feel better. He’d seen people die, unable to control anything. He was just another mindless soldier in the masses. He’d come home with those memories lodged in his chest like shrapnel. Occasionally they twist and his lungs tighten, making it hard for him to breathe as he fights off panic attacks. 

But things are different now. He’s 37, a bachelor, a father, and a car designer. The new life has it’s perks, one of them being able to fall asleep to the soft moans coming from his flat screen. 

Sighing, he sinks even further into the cool cushions. He’s warm in his flannel sweatpants and cotton t-shirt. With all the good food and alcohol in his system, he easily falls asleep. 

There’s a disturbance in his apartment not much later. Dean’s not sure how much later, startling awake when he hears glasses clink in his small kitchen. Dr. Sexy still plays on the TV, but it’s a different episode. Dean slowly stands, picking up one of the empty beer bottles. If anything, he can slam it against the intruder’s head before tackling the bastard to the ground. 

Dean crouches a little as he stalks over to the wall between the living room and the kitchen. Back pressed up against the smooth surface, Dean takes a steadying breath. When he shuffles into the kitchen, choosing to keep the light off for now, Dean freezes in surprise. He takes in the silhouette of a man leaning against his kitchen counter. Dean can’t see the man’s face, can only smell something Dean’s mind struggles to put a name too. The man’s a couple inches shorter than Dean, but his messy hair gives him some height. The slope of his shoulders gives away his slender build under his bulky clothes. The man tilts his head as Dean tentatively steps forward. 

Ready to swing, Dean takes another step closer. “Who the fuck are you?”

His voice rasps more than he’d like it to, his throat so dry the words almost crack. The stranger in his kitchen shakes his head slightly. Then, there’s a flash and Dean is suddenly surrounded by blue. Blue blue blue- 

Dean bolts upright, upsetting the balance of his recliner. His legs flail around the sides of the foot rest, his arms reaching out to keep him from falling. Instead of steadying himself, he knocks over some of his garbage. He curses, quickly pulling himself off the chair to clean up the mess. He shakes his head a couple times. He doesn’t remember what the dream was about, only recalls a vivid blue color. It pulses behind his eyelids like a beacon. Rubbing his eyes, he settles back onto his chair. A morning talk show lights up the TV screen, and Dean glances at his phone. He’s awake at 7:13 on a Saturday. 

Too groggy to get back up and shower, Dean stares blankly at the screen. The anchors speak with an odd pair of dudes. One of the men is tall, all lanky arms and charming smiles. His blonde hair is styled nicely, but the deep v-neck cut of his shirt makes Dean raise an eyebrow. The other man is much shorter. His eyes have a glint to them as he runs a hand through his almost shoulder length hair. But the crazy thing about both of them is that they have wings. Dean’s heard of angels, even met one. Fluffy wings, halos, the whole deal. But a lot of them actually turned out to be dicks. The angels had integrated themselves into human society, quite a few leaving their heavenly posts to live human lives. Wings and celestial powers still attached of course. They make Dean feel a little uneasy, seeing that none of them took part in politics or warfare of any kind. 

Dean’s brain finally catches up with him and he starts to hear what the men are talking about with the hoss. The smaller man offers a sleazy grin, leaning forward as if he’s about to share a secret with the woman.

“To be honest, we kinda started the program due to sheer boredom. Balth and I, we’re retired from the Bible circuit, but unlike most of our brethren, the human life just isn’t thrilling enough.”

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes as the man continues. “Many prayers being sent upstairs have to do with love. They range from wanting to find a soulmate to wanting to fix a damaged relationship. So we decided to help out with matters of the heart instead of the soul.”

The short man winks at the woman, who giggles shyly. The taller man, “Balth”, nods in agreement, his arms sprawled out on the back of the couch. The female host holds her hands out to both of them. 

“And your satisfaction rate?”

Balth and his partner glance at each other with knowing smiles. This time, Balth answers the question. His British accent surprises Dean. 

“Over 1,500 people have entrusted our Cupids with the search for their soulmate. We set up our first customer over a year ago and have yet to hear any complaints since, even from later customers.”

Dean’s eyes widen at the numbers and the word ‘cupids’. A matchmaking service run by angels. No wonder they had a better satisfaction rate than EHarmony. Dean’s starting to feel bad for that old guy in all the commercials when the interview continues. 

“Only 1,500 customers? That number seems a little low considering most everyone wants to find true love.” 

The audience behind the cameras cheer in agreement and Dean even finds himself pouting a little in curiosity. Neither angel seems unphased by the statement, both still relaxed in their seats. Balth answers again, voice still full of charm. 

“Due to supply and demand, our prices are fairly high. Asking other retired angels to use their time at the service of humans is not unreasonable, but it is asking them to come out of retirement. We cannot lower our costs until we have more employees. We hope to remedy that as soon as possible. Everyone deserves to be able to find love, some just don’t have the time or confidence too.”

Dean gapes at the screen, an expression the female host shares. The audience applauds, the cameras panning out to show their satisfied expressions. No one would question the sincerity in the angel’s voice, and the logic matched as well. 

The female host shakes her head slightly before facing the camera. Her smile is bright in comparison to the dark script that appears on the bottom of the screen. 

“If you are interested in finding your soulmate and want to get more information, the website and phone number for Cupid’s Company is located on the bottom of your screen.” Dean stares at the letters. Around him, his apartment is cold and empty. He keeps things neat, almost as if he doesn’t live here. Dean swallows, thinking about how his pillow sits in the middle of his bed despite the fact he still sleeps to the right side. After a second more, he scrambles to open his phone and snap a picture of the screen. The picture is shaky, but all the letters are clear.

The host laughs as the camera pans out to show her say goodbye to her guests. “I might even try it myself.”

The shorter angel grins at the camera in response. “We hope you do.”

Dean looks down at his phone screen, wondering if such a thing would be worth looking into. He had jumped into hotter fires with a lot less to go on, but this feels more important somehow. This is the promise of something real. Not drunken one night stands or the desperate makeup sessions with Lisa, but something good. The person he’s meant to be with. 

Dean clears his throat and closes his phone to shake away the sappy thoughts. He’d deal with that later.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean stands, turning off the television with a quiet sigh. The silence surrounding him makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, so he turns on his stereo. The opening chords of Smoke on the Water soothes his nerves as he starts cleaning up the living room. Dean absently hums, bobbing his head in time with the words. 

Trash thrown away, he starts working through the few dishes in the sink. When Ben’s at his place for the weekend, his apartment is full of sounds, smells and boyish charm. The kid left small messes everywhere he walked. Dean smiles fondly at the thought, ignoring the pang of jealousy in his chest. Lisa deserves someone nice in her life, someone who will treat her and Ben good. If this new guy does that, he should be okay in Dean’s book. The logic doesn’t make the loneliness fade though. 

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Dean focuses his thoughts on the tasks at hand. He watches his hands methodically wash each dish, then dries them and puts them away. He wipes down the counter with a Clorox wipe, smiling at the finished product. He goes about opening all of blinds, letting late morning light fill the living room and kitchen. Outside the windows, the sun beats down on the parking lot. Kids race by, moms and dads hurrying to follow. A little noise from the small park across the street leaks into his apartment and his smile grows. He should enjoy a weekend alone. With Ben at home, it means he can do whatever he pleases. 

Dean runs a hand through his bed head and stretching. Excitement tingles through his body as he heads to shower. He’ll go out tonight. 

…………………………………..

Dean parks Baby off to the side of the parking lot at the Roadhouse that night. He’d spent most of the day doing errands: washing laundry, vacuuming, grocery shopping. After a day of being responsible, Dean figures he deserves a fun night with a good burger and a cold drink. And maybe he’ll get lucky. 

He’s wearing his favorite pair of jeans with a soft t-shirt and dark red flannel, and he feels confident as he enters the bar. The sounds of pool balls cracking against each other and classic rock fill his ears. The air smells of grease and beer and sweat. The lights are dim, giving the room a warm feel. Jo smiles at him as he walks up to the bar. Straddling the seat, he grins back. 

“Light or dark tonight, Dean?”

Dean scans the crowd of people around, raising an eyebrow at a few girls he’d be interested in approaching. He’s surprised to find there are a couple men he looks twice at. Looking back to Jo, he pats the bar. “I’m gonna take it easy tonight. Not as young as I used to be and I don’t wanna fall asleep too early.” 

Jo rolls her eyes when Dean winks at her, laughing to herself as she fills up a glass with beer. Ellen walks past her daughter behind the bar, pausing when she recognizes the man talking to Jo. 

“Dean, where the hell have you been? Bobby and I were startin to get worried about you.”

Dean grins at the older woman. The fond scolding tone of her voice makes him feel at home. He definitely needed this. “I’ve been working, Ellen. I’m up for review in a couple weeks. Big promotion, ya know?”

Ellen leans over the wooden bar, putting a hand on top of Dean’s. “We’re proud of you, son.”

Her eyes are warm, her smile accenting her laugh lines. Dean nods, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. Pulling back, she nods at the stair case leading to the upper floors. “You should stop by sometime and have dinner with us.”

“I will, Ellen. Promise.” 

Smile still on her face, Ellen makes her way back to the kitchen to help the chef. Jo brings Dean a plate with a burger and some fries. “Thanks, Jo.”

“No problem. Good luck on your crusade, oh valiant sex knight.” Jo grins, winking mockingly over her shoulder as she saunters away. Dean shakes his head, picking up his burger. 

“You're spending too much time with Charlie!” he calls after her. He takes a bite of his burger, smirking at her mumbled "fight me, Dean." 

Time passes like it normally does at the Roadhouse, slow and easy. Dean takes his time with his burger, nursing his beer in between bites. He lets the dinner crowd sift out, the late nighters still simmering throughout the bar. A couple people give him a once over and Dean smirks triumphantly. 

At the end of the bar, a woman sits and watches a group of men play pool. Dean can feel her glance over at him when she thinks he can’t tell. His body starts to hum. He stands and walks over to her, charming smile decorating his lips. 

This, the conversation, the flirting, the lust-filled gazes, the licking of lips, the brief touches, it all leads to her in his car. She’s following him to his apartment, complimenting him on the clean furniture, letting him slowly unzip the back of her dress. Then she’s lying on his freshly washed sheets, arms sprawled above her head, staring up at him with bedroom eyes. 

This one night stand, this simple push and pull, it feels amazing. But the next morning, she’s gone. She kissed his cheek and patted his chest, politely declining breakfast. All that’s left is rumpled sheets that smell like cheap perfume and the aftertaste of her cigarette breath in his mouth. She wasn’t Lisa, wasn’t someone he can wake up next to every morning, wasn’t someone he splits his closet space with. 

Grunting, Dean pads into the bathroom naked. He brushes his teeth, staring at his bed wrinkled reflection. His skin looks faded, like it’s lost it’s color. There’s slight dark spots under his eyes. He’s got laugh lines. He’s getting too old for one night stands, for relationships that lead to nothing. He rinses out his mouth and quickly showers. He washes away every trace of last night, letting the hot water help the cool ache he feels under his skin. 

Throwing on some flannel sweatpants, he avoids sitting back in his bed. Instead, he goes into the kitchen for coffee, glad he set up the automatic timer the day before. The dark liquid does it’s work to revive his brain cells and he goes to work in his office. 

Within a few minutes, Dean scrolling through the Cupid’s Company website. The top banner is a light pink, blaring and comforting at the same time. Juxtaposed over that is the company name and a photo of the two men Dean saw on the television, Balthazar and Gabriel. 

The information displayed below the banner tells Dean the company’s been a dream of the angels’ for years, but had only recently taken shape. He skips over all that, going to the available packages. Dean chokes a little on his coffee when he sees the price. 4,000 dollars is nothing to sneeze at. Glancing back at his bed, he frowns. 

“This better be fucking worth it,” he mutters under his breath as he clicks the “Request Service” button. Soon, he finishes the basic personality questionnaire and fills out his debit card information. He sighs as he places the order. He’s not lacking in the financial department, but his old habits from living on the road with Sam and Dad still haven’t worn off. 

He exits the website, then leans back. He stares at the ceiling when his phone buzzes with an email notification. 

"Your request for a cupid has been received. Please expect him or her to arrive at your household no later than 1 p.m. This gives our angels the chance to make sure you are paired with a cupid suitable for your needs. 

Thank you for choosing Cupid’s Company, 

Balthazar and Gabriel"

Dean furrows his eyebrow at the message, surprised at the formal language and the quickness of the response. His clock reads 11: 43, giving him enough time to wash his bedding and put on some proper clothes. 

As he starts stripping the bed, Dean’s mind wanders along with the tune on the radio. Despite his nervousness and slight irritation with himself for being such a sissy, he’s excited. An angel is going to help him find his soulmate. Dean can’t help but grin as his washer cleans away the last of his one night stands.


	4. Chapter 4

Balthazar grins at his computer screen as he leans back in his desk chair. His wings flutter happily behind him as he reads over Dean Winchester’s information. The 37-year-old divorcee didn’t match their normal demographic, but this could be a good branch out for the company. They just have to find the right cupid and maybe he would be willing to make a testimonial.

The door to his office swings open and Gabriel walks in, right cheek puffed out as he works his way to the center of a Tootsie Roll pop. Balthazar;s grin lands on his business partner, causing the archangel to raise an eyebrow. 

“’nother order?” he asks around the lollipop. He sits on the side of Balthazar’s desk, kicking his legs as he reads the screen. 

Nodding, Balthazar goes back to scrolling through the file. “Indeed. One Dean Winchester of Kansas is ready to put his divorce behind him in search for his true love.”

Gabriel snorts. “Ya sound like a Disney movie trailer, ya know that?”

“You’ve made that clear on several occasions, Gabe.” Balthazar looks up at the shorter angel, tugging at one of Gabriel’s primary feathers. “Did you need something?”

Gabriel hums in agreement, standing to face Balthazar head on. He waves around the lollipop like a baton as he says, “I think Castiel should take this one.”

Balthazar’s eyes widen at the idea and he starts to rub his chin as he contemplates it. Gabriel’s younger brother was an odd sort. He has a laser sharp focus on his work with the company’s finances. He wanted to continue to serve humanity even after his services as a strategist were no longer needed in Heaven. Castiel’s a good employee, but isn’t really the best salesperson. “What makes you say that?”

Gabriel shrugs, pacing in front of Balthazar’s desk now. “Dean’s file shows that he’s capable socially, he just needs a little divine intervention. This isn’t a dude who’s desperate for someone who’ll have sex with him. This guy wants the real deal. Cas is good with the technical aspect, but needs to build his social skills. They’re perfect.”

Balthazar leans back and stares up at the ceiling. He had considered sending a male cupid in place of a female one. Dean’s the flirtatious type, and he doesn’t want the human to lose track of what the cupid is there to do. Before he can agree to Gabriel’s proposition, the angel in question appears in the doorway of Balthazar’s office. 

Castiel’s facial expression is professionally stoic, a folder containing the latest numbers for Balthazar and Gabriel to look over in his hand. He wears a standard suit and a bulky tan trench coat, hiding his warrior stance as he waits for permission to enter. 

Gabriel opens his arms out to the dark haired angel, a grin lighting up his face. “Cassie! We were just talking about you.”

Castiel tilts his head slightly to the right as he walks into the office and puts the folder on the desk. “If your concern is with the latest report, everything is within that folder there.”

Gabriel turns to Balthazar, nodding towards Castiel. Balthazar sighs quietly and shakes his head. “No, Castiel. It does not concern your normal work. Gabriel and I were discussing another matter.”

Gabriel nods enthusiastically, going up to Castiel and putting his hands on his brother’s shoulders. Gabriel’s bright eyes make Castiel’s wings pull closer to his back with worry and he raises an eyebrow in question. 

“Congrats, lil bro! You’re gonna help a human find his soulmate.”

Castiel’s wings rise above his shoulders in surprise, his blue eyes widening. He glances over to Balthazar, eyebrows stretching over his forehead. When Balthazar nods, Castiel shakes his head. “You both understand that I’ve never once answered a prayer? You could say that my ‘people’ skills are ‘rusty’.”

“We understand that, Cassie,” Balthazar says, trying to hold back a smile. This would be good for the angel. “We simply think that you are the best angel for our latest customer.”

Gaze shifting back and forth between Balthazar and Gabriel, Castiel’s wings droop in defeat. He can’t ignore them, not just because they are his brother and best friend, but because they are his employers. He stands straight, ready to take on the assignment. Finding a human his or her soulmate is rewarding, something his brethren often spoke about. He’ll now have the chance to experience that awe for himself. “When do I depart?”

Gabriel claps his hands, his grin making Castiel’s grace swirl uncomfortably. “As soon as you’ve finished your briefing with Balthazar and change into your uniform.”

Castiel nods along until he hears the word “uniform”. He swallows, rubbing his hands on his dress slacks.

“Uniform?”


	5. Chapter 5

Dean paces in his kitchen the closer it gets to one in the afternoon. The only time he’d come in contact with an angel in real life was years ago at a hospital. Sam drove the Impala as he fought with John, and Dean sat in the back glaring at them to stop. That’s when a semi truck swerved out of nowhere and hit the car on the driver’s side. Baby’s frame crumpled around them as they spun out, and Sam woke up to find both his father and brother knocked unconscious. 

That night, Dean stayed in intensive care, doctors frantically trying to mend his broken body. He didn’t wake up for a week. The head trauma put him into a coma, and even as his wounds started to heal, his brain stayed dead. Desperate, John and Sam cashed in all the favors they could until an angel finally agreed to heal Dean. When he came too, all he saw was the red color of the angel’s hair. She didn’t even give the doctors the chance to take out the breathing tubes from his throat before she disappeared into thin air. 

From the way Gabriel and Balthazar appeared on TV, Dean doesn’t expect the angel to be as uncaring or stiff as the one he barely remembers. He rubs his palms together, counting along with each tick of the clock. He then pours himself a glass of water, downing it easily. 

This is crazy, ridiculous even. He’s capable of finding love on his own, without having to dish out 4,000 dollars to take the easy road. Dean never took the easy road. He cut his way through all obstacles and always came out on the other side. Sam always complained about his resolve, but this is different. He’s putting his faith in something that isn’t even human, something that can kill him faster than a single heart beat. 

Dean chugs down another glass of water, sighing when he finally stops to breathe. Putting the glass down, he rubs his temples. The only thing ridiculous is him. He’s tired of being lonely. 

Before Dean can spiral any further into his thought process, there’s a soft knock on his apartment door. The business man swallows as he tiptoes to the door. He catches himself walking softly and shakes his head to scold himself. He’s a grown man and a retired Marine, he’s capable of answering the door. 

Through the fisheye lens of the peephole, Dean examines the angel’s face. The first thing he notices is that the cupid has his hair fluffed up at different angles, a bed-head look Dean isn’t sure is intentional. He also has scruff along sharp cheekbones, an odd feature on a creature Dean assumed would be clean shaven. It accents the paleness of the angel’s skin and the fullness of his lips. Lips Dean can’t stop staring at.

When there’s another harder knock, Dean realizes he’s been standing there for an embarrassingly long time. He clears his throat as he steps back. Charming Winchester smile lighting up his face, he swings open the door for the cupid. 

The angel stands taller, arms straight by his sides. Vivid blue eyes lock onto Dean’s facial expression, eyebrows furrowed as if Dean’s smile isn’t what he expected. Dean’s heart thuds at the heavy gaze. The blue is bright enough to feature in a cheesy romance novel, bright enough to remind Dean of the dream he’d had the night before. Bright enough to throw him for a loop when the angel starts to speak. “Hello, Dean. My name is Castiel. I believe you requested a cupid this morning.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at the stiffness in the cupid’s voice. He holds out a hand to the inside of his apartment. “That I did, Castiel. Please come in.”

Castiel nods, expecting the response, and takes long strides into the human’s kitchen. He quickly scans his surroundings, noting the cleanliness. He already knows that Dean lives alone, but the lack of clutter strongly suggests an older bachelor lifestyle. 

Dean closes the door, then faces the angel in his apartment. Leaning against the counter, Dean crosses his arms over his chest. He looks Castiel up and down, smirking a little to hold back a laugh. Sure, Castiel is a cupid, but the cherry blossom pink vest and matching dress pants are surprising. So is the bulky trench coat billowing off of the angel’s shoulders down to the middle of his calves. The tan color isn’t something Dean would have picked to go with the pink, but it somehow suits Castiel. 

Castiel shifts his weight as Dean examines him, drawing Dean’s attention to the cupid’s wings. They’re large, the tips right next to the hem of the trench coat. Each feather is speckled with blue and black, creating an optical illusion Dean can only describe as a galaxy. It’s mesmerizing to watch how the feathers lightly shift with each of Castiel’s movements, and Dean wonders if the plumage is soft despite their razor sharp appearance. Castiel pulls the wings closer to his body, folding them against his back. When Dean looks back to the angel’s face, he’s surprised to find 

Castiel blushing slightly. His shoulders tense when he realizes he might have crossed a line by staring at the wings. 

Castiel meets Dean’s gaze despite the color on his cheeks, his stance still professional. Dean tries to mimic this behavior, clearing his throat. “Sorry, if I made ya uncomfortable. Last time I saw an angel, I was dying.”

At his words, Castiel relaxes his stance, the wings drooping into a more natural position behind him. Dean’s shoulders also slope down as he offers a small smile to accent his apology. 

“I have never really interacted with humans before this point, either,” Castiel says, and Dean tries to get used to the low sound of the angel’s voice. “Pardon my awkwardness as well.”

Dean pushes off the counter and goes to the fridge for something to do. He pulls out a beer, holding one out for Castiel. Castiel declines with a shake of his head, shifting his weight once more. Opening the can and taking a swig gives Dean a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“You aren’t exactly what I pictured when I thought cupid,” Dean says, taking in the largeness of the wings again.

Castiel nods as if he knows Dean would say something similar to that. “What did you expect, Mr. Winchester?”

The business man winces at the proper title and he puts his hands up. “I’m Dean, nothing else.”

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel says, rubbing his sweating palms on his trenchcoat. “If you do not approve of me taking on this position, I am happy to report back to my employer and request for another cupid to assist you.”

Again, Dean shakes his head so fast he feels his brain shift inside his skull. “No, no. That’s okay. I just thought you’d be… cuter, I suppose.” 

When Castiel doesn’t respond to the statement, just squints at his charge as he tries to figure out the meaning behind the words, Dean flushes. He clears his throat.

“Nevermind, let’s talk bout something else,” Dean looks around his apartment as he tries to think of a new topic of conversation. “Like, what’s the game plan?” 

Castiel’s eyebrows unfurrow and his wings rise in confidence. This is his job, what Gabriel and Balthazar and His Father trained him to do. To help humans, to answer their prayers. “Yes, of course. Should we sit?”

Dean motions to the small table under one of the kitchen windows, taking the seat closer to the wall. Castiel sits across from him, wings carefully folded to avoid pressing into the chair. Castiel stares at Dean for a couple seconds before nodding. 

“Cupid Company’s approach to the matchmaking process is not based on statistics and personality quizzes. Instead, cupids rely on their grace to glance at two potential souls. If the souls react positively towards each other, the cupid delves further, going as far as looking towards the future to be sure the two people are soulmates. This procedure takes less than a few seconds and requires no interaction between you and the other person.” 

As he speaks, Castiel keeps his hands folded on top of the table. The cupid’s voice is even, a comfort to Dean. The angel notices that Dean shifts a little in his own seat, often glancing around them as he takes in the new information. Dean takes another swig of his beer, nodding along. 

“What about the questions I answered earlier?”

“Those are to pair you with an appropriate cupid and for said cupid to learn some basic knowledge of their charge. By knowing your answers, Dean, I know where to start with my search.” 

Dean leans back, stretching out his legs underneath the table. He avoids touching the angel across from him, Castiel’s stiffness still throwing him off a little. He’s never met anyone so expressionless. 

Raising his eyebrow, Dean asks, “So what is it that you know bout me?”

The angel squints his eyes at the question. Dean provided all of the information on the forms, so he already knows what Castiel does. “You are asking what I have deduced, correct?”

Dean fights the urge to roll his eyes at the formal language, but nods instead. “Yeah, Sherlock, what have you deduced.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrow once again, an expression Dean decides is the only one the cupid is capable of, and tilts his head. “My name is Castiel. I recall sharing that with you upon my arrival.” 

This time, Dean really does roll his eyes. He opens his mouth to explain the reference, then decides better of it. “Forget it. Just tell me what you’re thinking.” 

Castiel’s hands unfold and the angel places both palms flat on the table. His thumbs trace over the smooth laminate as he goes through his knowledge of his new charge. “Based on the facts you gave on your questionnaire, your past preference in long term partners has been female. However, your vague explanation of the gender of all of your sexual partners reveals that you are also comfortable with someone male.”

Dean quirks up an eyebrow, cheeks warming up a little. “Okay. What else?”

Castiel nods, unfolding his hands and placing his palms flat against the table surface. “You are experienced with sex, but have recently been divorced and have a son. You want someone who will respect your relationship with your ex-wife and son, someone who will take care of him as you do. This respect and affection must also be extended for the brother you spoke highly of. This calls, statistically, for someone your age. Someone experienced enough to understand how to reciprocate such mature feelings. You are also a veteran, meaning your partner will also have to be understanding of your previous lifestyle despite the fact you now work elsewhere. Does my analysis satisfy you?” 

Dean nods, looking at his beer and spinning it in a slow circle. His stomach does a few nervous flips, but at least he knows Castiel is capable of reading him well enough to find his soulmate. Silence settles between them like a blanket of dust. Dean struggles to breath around the cracked dryness in his throat, so he takes a sip of his drink. Castiel leans back and away from his charge, sensing Dean’s discomfort. 

“Given that said, our first logical step is to start with people you know,” Castiel says softly, hoping to comfort Dean with the statement. “It is common that someone you have already established a connection with is actually the person meant for you. Humans are very good at attracting people whose souls fit well together with theirs.” 

Crossing his arms over his chest again, Dean frowns a little. “So I’ll have a cupid tailing me like a lost puppy as you use your soul searching powers on people?”

Castiel’s lips turn down slightly at the term lost puppy, a change in expression Dean notices. “No, of course not. I do not have to be visible on this plane in order to search for your soulmate. I must stay by your side, but if it makes you more comfortable, I can remain invisible.”

“That’s a little stalkerish, but it works,” Dean mumbles, taking another drink of his beer. Castiel’s wings tense at the tone of Dean’s voice and guilt immediately zings through Dean. He stares at the angel’s shoulder as he tries to think of a way to get the conversation away from his own stupidness. 

“So, do we start now?” he finally says. “I don’t go back to work until tomorrow, so I’ve got the rest of today.” 

Castiel’s eyes squint slightly at the question. He raises a hand in a formal-looking shrug. “We start whenever you feel comfortable.” 

Dean presses his lips into a thin line and nods. He glances at the clock on the microwave. It’s just past three. “Wanna go out? It’s a little early for dinner, but I’m not opposed to grabbing some grub.”

Once again, Castiel tilts his head in confusion. The angel squints at his charge, mind racing as he tries to understand the motive of the invitation. “You wish to begin our search now?”

Shrugging, Dean stands to rinse out the empty beer and put it in the recycle bin. “I don’t mind if you do your thing while we’re eating. I was just thinkin it might be nice to get out. It’s a beautiful day.”

Castiel looks out the window above the table. Sunshine peers down through the leaves of trees and bushes, lighting everything in a glowing green color. Children run about in the street, kicking a ball back and forth and laughing. Birds and bees and crickets and wasps and all of God’s creations vibrate with life outside. Castiel finds himself smiling fondly. 

Dean notices the smile on Castiel’s profile and feels something pang in his gut. The light from the window glows through those black curls, giving the cupid an impromptu halo. And that’s when it really hits Dean that this creature is more than just formal language, celestial powers and wings. Castiel’s something beautiful, something people actually worship. The human swallows and looks away. 

Castiel looks back over at Dean, sharing his smile with the human. “Today does appear to be pleasant.” The angel stands, wings flapping slightly behind him. “You are in charge here, Dean. I will follow you whereever it is you wish to go.”

Dean frowns a little at the words, unsure as to how he feels about Castiel following him. He shakes his head a little. “You don’t have to stay if ya don’t want to. I just thought ya might want something to do. You’re welcome to go home.” 

The cupid’s eyes squint curiously at the human. “You are inviting me to share your company?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean puts his hands on his hips. “Do I need to write it in calligraphy for you?”

“Why?” Castiel asks, staring into Dean’s eyes. The gaze is intense, and makes Dean’s skin prickle a little. It feels like Castiel is staring straight through him, like his every thought and memory and atom are exposed for the angel’s inspection. Despite being fully dressed, Dean suddenly feels naked. 

“I dunno, man. I just thought it’d be nice to get to know ya a little better?” Dean throws his arms up a little, still holding Castiel’s gaze. 

After a couple more seconds of tense staring, Castiel blinks and nods. He ruffles his wings while smoothing his hands over the front of his vest. “You are right to ask to get to know me better. You are trusting me with an important project, and I do not wish to disappoint. I accept your invitation to go out.”

Dean sighs, running a hand down his face. He turns on his heel, grumbling about getting his shoes and wallet. As he shoves a sweatshirt over his head, Dean can’t help but think that this whole cupid thing is going to be interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel stares at the vehicle in front of him, the corners of his mouth turned down slightly. Humans’ love for motor vehicles always confused him. Dean unlocks the driver’s side door of the Impala, sliding into the front seat with a smile. The leather is warm against his back, the seat solid underneath his weight. He leans over and unlocks the passenger side door, sharing his grin with the angel. 

 

Castiel blinks when the human smiles at him. He admits to himself that Dean Winchester is attractive. The smile is bright, genuine, accenting the laugh lines around his eyes and the freckles along his cheekbones. The expression is almost as bright as the soul that shines through underneath Dean’s mortal skin. Castiel’s grace thrums, proud that he has the opportunity to help such a beautiful soul. 

 

Sitting in the passenger seat, Castiel carefully tucks his wings tight against his back. He examines at the smooth lines of the interior as Dean starts the car. Dean caresses the dashboard, smile growing even more fond. 

 

“That’s my girl…” Dean murmurs before buckling up. Castiel’s wings twitch against his back, showing his curiosity. 

 

“Your vehicle has a gender?” 

 

Dean’s eyes glance over at the angel, the color glinting in the sunlight. He snorts, but then realizes that Castiel’s question is a serious one. He pats the steering wheel. “Well, most guys call their cars ‘she’, it’s tradition, ya know?”

 

Castiel does that small frown again, and this time Dean catches it. The human adds it to his growing list of expressions as the cupid. 

 

“No, I do not know,” Castiel replies. “Humans’ relationships with inanimate objects seem completely unnecessary.” 

 

Dean looks the cupid up and down, snorting at the offense. He pets the dashboard again. “Don’t listen to him, Baby. He just doesn’t understand us.” 

 

The feathers on the top of Castiel’s wings arch, the black color rippling. Dean watches the irritated movement for a couples seconds, eyebrows raised. He puts Baby into reverse, leading her out of the parking lot. He tries to hide the pleased smirk on his face. 

 

Once they’re on the open road, Dean turns on the music. He doesn’t turn it up as loud as he normally does, instead letting the guitar riffs and drum solos buzz softly through the silence. Castiel stares out of the window as the trees race by. The car doesn’t go nearly as fast as he does when flying, and the difference makes his eyesight swirl. His body starts to twitch. Dean glances over at him, concern making his stomach twist. 

 

Wings and fingers trembling for space, Castiel opens the window. As wind hits his face and pushes through his feathers, he sighs. Dean glances at the angel again, noticing how much more comfortable Castiel is with the sense of speed around him. With no one around them on the road, Dean presses a little more on the gas. Baby cruises at an even 75 as he rolls down his own window. 

Air gushes through the cab, bouncing around them in short bursts. Castiel takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. Dean senses the lack of tension, and turns up the music with a grin. 

 

They don’t speak further as Dean takes them to the bar. Instead, Castiel watches his charge drive. The wind flicks the man’s short hair onto his forehead in a style Castiel thinks is called “bed head.” Dean’s green eyes scan the road carefully, but his shoulders slump inward. Calloused hands pat the leather steering wheel in time with the rock songs playing. Castiel nods his head along with the steady beat of the songs, their melodies flitting through his grace in a familiar manner. As he takes in the entire scene, Castiel decides that Dean needs someone who would also be willing to take long drives. Someone who would share his love of the open road. 

 

They arrive at the Roadhouse too quickly for Castiel’s liking. He wishes to stay in the car, feeling the wind push around him without actually moving his body. His cheeks are flushed, carefully parted hair fluffed out by the wind. Both men exit the car, the buzz of the drive echoing in their limbs. Dean huffs a laugh when he takes in the cupid’s appearance. 

 

Castiel glances at his charge, wings perking up in question. Dean decides the movement is the equivalent of the angel raising an eyebrow. Dean locks the car, shaking his head. 

 

“Nothin’, just thought of something funny.”

 

Castiel’s wings settle, but the feathers right out of his back are still slightly ruffled. The angel squints at his charge, aware that Dean is lying and unwilling to share his thoughts. But Dean smiles as he leads Castiel to the entrance of the Roadhouse, and Castiel decides to set aside his curiosity in favor for examining their surroundings. 

 

The Roadhouse is a small bar. Laminate tables glimmer under the worn out light bulbs. Neon signs glow on the walls, giving the bottles on the liquor shelf flashing smiles. Castiel’s nose wrinkles at the smell of grease, his vessel unsure about how to react to food. Not many people loiter about, it being early on a Sunday. Dean makes his way around the tables towards the bar where a young woman with a strong gaze and a young man with a mullet stand talking. Castiel follows close behind, his grace reaching out to get a sense of the souls around them. 

 

Dean’s own soul brightens when he sits in a bar stool across from the woman. Castiel’s wings perk up, surprised to have found someone that might be good for Dean so quickly. The cupid remains quiet as he sits on the stool next to Dean’s, keeping his wings close to his body to not draw attention to them. 

 

“Jo! Ash! How are y’all?” Dean asks, resting his elbows on the bar so he can lean towards them. 

 

Jo snaps out of her argument with Ash, turning towards Dean with a grin so genuine it startles Castiel. Ash nods at Dean, arms still crossed over his chest. 

“Back again so soon, Dean?” Jo teases, hands on her hips. 

 

Dean smiles back at Jo, shrugging. “You know I can’t resist your girlish charms.”

 

Ash snorts and rolls his eyes. His eyes glint as they land on Jo again, a smirk forming on his lips. Jo glares at him for a second before turning back to Dean. “You mean Mom’s apple pie.” 

 

Dean pushes up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Damn right. It’s always a good day for pie.” 

 

While Dean orders his food, Castiel tilts his head. It’s clear to him that the three have known each other for some time. He notices how comfortable Dean is in this environment. His body leans closer to the people he speaks with, his shoulders still slightly slumped, his breath even. Dean’s soul even pulses.

 

Before Castiel can further catalog his thoughts, Jo turns a welcoming smile to him. “Can I get you anything, sweetheart?”

 

The cupid startles slightly when he’s directly addressed. No one’s ever called him sweetheart. It feels odd to consider himself a sweet organ, but he doesn’t comment on the woman’s diction. “No thank you, I do not require sustenance.”

 

Jo’s eyes flick to the wings sprouting from Castiel’s back and she glances at Dean. They’ve always exchanged amused or frustrated glances when they interact with certain customers. When Dean recognizes this as one of those looks, Dean realizes he hadn’t introduced the angel. Dean clears his throat, turning in his stool to face Castiel while keeping his eyes on Jo. “Ya sure you don’t want anything, man?”

 

Castiel squints at his charge, making the blue of his irises look sharper. “I assume you would be more comfortable if I broke bread with you during our outing.”

 

Dean’s ears turn hot, knowing Castiel’s words show that they are out together. Jo and Ash look back and forth between Dean and Castiel while the angel waits for Dean’s answer. “Well, yeah. It’s kinda rude to not eat or drink anything when someone takes you out.”

 

Castiel nods, sitting up straighter when he faces Jo again. “I will take a cheeseburger with fries and a beer. Thank you.”

 

Jo stares at Castiel for a couple seconds before she shakes her head and writes down the order. When her gaze lands on Dean again, Dean already has an answer. “Jo, Ash, this is Castiel. Castiel, this is Jo and Ash.”

 

Castiel holds out his hand for Ash to shake, sure that this is a common gesture when humans are first introduced to each other. Instead of taking his hand, the man holds out a fist. Castiel stares at Ash’s hand, eyebrows furrowed. He then looks to his charge, who rolls his eyes. “Bump his fist with your own.”

 

Castiel nods his understanding and bumps his fist against Ash’s. The awkward moment over, Ash waves at Dean and starts to back away. “Love to stay n chat, amigos, but duty calls.”

 

The cupid watches the strange man leave, and looks to Jo. She offers a smile similar to a grimace and holds out her hand. Castiel shakes it with a firm grip, his palm warm against Jo’s. 

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Jo,” Castiel says as he lets go of the woman’s hand. 

 

“You too.” She looks the angel up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I’m gonna get your drinks.”

 

When the woman walks away, Castiel watches her. His grace hums as he stretches it outward towards Dean and Jo’s respective souls. Both instinctively reach out towards Castiel’s grace. The cupid pushes the energies towards each other, grace seeking through them.

 

Dean taps his fingers on the bar when Castiel doesn't say anything to fill the silence. It feels typical for the stoic angel, but there's something off about Castiel. His back is straight, feathers rustling slightly. His gaze isn’t focused on anything around them. Dean thinks he sees a flash of blue crackle across the feathers and realization makes Dean blush. 

 

Castiel doesn’t have the chance to actually test Jo and Dean's compatibility. Dean shoves Castiel’s arm, voice low and eyes darting around. “You doing that soul searching thing?”

 

Castiel looks at Dean, eyes wide with surprise. “You are paying for my services as a cupid, Dean. I am simply doing my job.” 

 

Dean shakes his head, glaring at the people around them as if they know Castiel’s position in Dean’s life. “Not Jo. She's basically my sister, man.” 

 

Castiel looks between Jo and the man sitting behind him and nods. “My apologies. I did not realize. You exchanged pleasantries, so I assumed it was a connection worth looking into.”

 

Swallowing, Dean stares down at the bar. “S'ok. You didn't know.” 

 

Castiel takes in dark blue swirl in Dean's soul and his lips turn down into a frown. “Do you wish to talk about it?” 

 

The sharp snort that comes from Dean confuses the angel. “I guess you would need to know, right? See if my future soul mate can handle my emotional baggage?”

 

“That would be one reason. I also thought you would wish to share, remove that ‘weight from your shoulders’ as they say.” 

 

Castiel’s words have a serious and concerned tone, but the angel also uses air quotes to accent his point. The gesture makes Dean smile. Castiel’s grace swirls happily in his body when Dean relaxes. 

 

“It is pretty heavy,” Dean says, voice a murmur. 

 

Jo reappears with their drinks, placing the glasses onto the bar with a solid clack. Dean jumps a little at the sound, realizing how close he was to Castiel. Castiel only blinks in response, still staring at Dean as he tries to decipher the human’s tone. 

 

Jo doesn't say anything to them, but gives them both a once over before departing. She dodges around the tables, helping customers and picking up glasses. Dean immediately picks up his drink and starts to down it. Castiel only sips at the cold liquid, nose wrinkling slightly at the bitter taste. 

 

Sighing after he drinks, Dean sets the glass back on the bar. His eyes close, jaw clenching. “My mom died when I was 4. My brother was 6 months old. House fire.”

 

Castiel lightly puts his glass down so it doesn't make a sound. He doesn't want to startle Dean into closing up again. 

 

“My dad was overseas at the time. 2rd tour with the Marines. When he came back, he went crazy. Drank all the time. Took on more tours. We were worried bout a dishonorable discharge. My dad’s friend, Bobby, took us in.”

 

Dean looks up at the bar around them, turning in his seat to lean back against the bar top. He scans the space. “He taught me to play ball, paid for Sammy and my school clothes, kept me off the streets. I was no older than seven when him and Ellen got married. We came here for dinner every Friday. Sam and I would play with Jo. We grew up together. And when we moved in together, it felt natural.”

 

Dean smiles a little, glancing back at Castiel. Castiel watches the human carefully, noting the bitter green and happy yellow twisting through Dean's soul. “Her and Sam were the first people I came out to. Her and Sam were there for me when I came home from Iraq and started drinking. They were there when Lisa handed me the divorce papers. They pulled me back from that edge countless times.” 

 

Breathing deep through his nose, Dean takes another couple swigs of his drink. Castiel scans Dean’s profile, still amazed at the beauty of his charge. 

 

“You are stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Castiel whispers, his voice solid to Dean. 

 

Dean looks up at Castiel, nodding in acknowledgment. “If you think so.” 

 

“Dean Winchester, your soul is as bright as the voice of God.” 

 

Dean stares into Castiel’s eyes, his lungs clenching as they hold each other's gazes. The silence is tense between them despite the background noise. 

 

After a minute of unwavering staring, Dean looks out at the rest of the bar. “Ya know, Cas, flattery will get you everywhere.” 

 

The angel's wings rustle in surprise at Dean's teasing tone. He wants to tell Dean his words are truthful, that he would never lie about something as serious and beautiful as the human soul. But the strain on Dean's face, the clenched muscle in his jaw, keeps Castiel from pushing further. 

 

Their new silence doesn’t have the chance to sour because Jo sets their plates on the bar and refills Dean’s glass. As she pours, Jo raises an eyebrow at Dean. The man shakes his head, a silent later. Jo scowls for a second before leaving them alone again. Castiel watches the interaction, now noticing how their relationship mimics his own with Gabriel. 

 

The burgers steam on the plates, the smell drawing both man and angel to their meals. They don’t say anything to each other as they begin to eat. Dean does enjoy watching the cupid consume his food though. Castiel holds the burger with both hands, fingertips gentle on the bun as he inspects the food. His blue eyes brighten as he takes the first bite, a satisfied hum resonating in his throat. Dean raises an eyebrow at the sound, chewing his own bacon cheeseburger. Castiel doesn’t notice Dean’s expression, all of his senses focused on the food in his hands. 

 

The smell fills his mind and his grace surges pleasantly. Normally eating bothers him and he avoids the action. When in the company of humans, it is viewed as rude to not eat as well because it makes them uncomfortable. Castiel normally followed the rule, but never quite enjoyed the food placed in front of him. Castiel takes another large bite of the burger, grease dripping from his lips and down his chin. The sensation would repulse him in any other situation, but now it adds to the experience. He feels almost human as the muscles in his jaw work together to chew. He closes his eyes, reveling in the mixture of flavors, picking out cheese, tomato, lettuce, even the pepper steak seasoning in the meat. His wings flutter happily. 

 

Dean smirks as at the cupid’s reaction, washing down his burger with another long swig of beer. “Glad you’re enjoying the burger, man.”

 

Castiel’s eyes open, his gaze focusing on Dean’s amused expression. The angel’s wings pull closer to his body, an action Dean figures is similar to an embarrassed blush. He lifts the burger up slightly to bring Dean’s attention to it. “This makes me very happy.” 

 

Dean’s smirk turns into a genuine grin. “Glad I could introduce you to one of the wonders of humanity.” 

 

Castiel’s wings span out a little as he relaxes and goes back to his burger, feathers rustling occasionally in a continued expression of contentment. Dean shakes his head, still smiling as he goes back to finishing his own meal. 

 

Quickly scarfing down his french fries, Castiel slumps a little towards the bar top. His wings droop like his eyelids. Castiel sips at his beer, eyes scanning the bar as he waits for Dean. There’s a woman sitting in the far corner of the bar, watching other people play pool. Her brown hair falls over her face when she moves, but her eyes are sharp. Castiel pushes his grace further, gently touching the woman’s soul. She’s quiet, but is social in certain situations. She’s a teacher, so she likes interacting with kids. She also prefers nights in over going out late. The angel’s eyebrows furrow as he focuses, calling Dean’s soul closer to his grace so he can see into their future. 

 

White flashes in Castiel’s grace and suddenly he’s surrounded by possible memories. Dean introducing himself to the woman, them exchanging numbers, Dean picking her up for their first date, them flirting all throughout the date, kissing in Dean’s car when he takes her home, her inviting him inside, Dean grinning and agreeing. Each moment has a tint of lavender to it, happiness and want mixing together well. The corners of Castiel’s lips turn up into a small smile as he stares at the woman. 

 

Dean turns to Castiel to ask if he’s ready for dessert when he notices the small smile. He had yet to see such an expression on the angel’s face before and freezes at its sudden appearance. He follows Castiel’s gaze, noticing the woman Castiel’s staring at. Dean snorts, elbowing Castiel’s side. 

 

“Looks like you stumbled upon one of humanity’s other wonders,” Dean says, leaning closer to Castiel as if the statement is a secret between them. 

 

Castiel hears the statement, but doesn’t react at first. His grace plunges further into the combined souls, looking into the future. The further Castiel pushes, the less the lavender color appears. The moments between Dean and the woman grow darker until eventually Dean’s sleeping on the couch, wondering why he tried to start a new relationship in the first place. Dean’s nightmares get worse, he starts drinking too much. Castiel pulls out of the knot he created between the two souls, blinking as he comes back to himself. 

 

Light glows in Castiel’s eyes again as he sits back and Dean stumbles to find something else to say. He looks back at the woman, actually checking her out this time. She has the soft edges and big eyes Dean normally finds attractive. She feels his stare and looks up at him. Following instinct, Dean smiles at her before turning back to Castiel. 

 

“So?” Dean asks, taking a long drink of his beer. Castiel mimics his charge, finishing the beer with an audible gasp. 

 

“The beginning stages of your relationship would be happy, but later on, neither of you would be satisfied.” Castiel stares down at his hands, fingers tracing through the condensation on his glass. 

 

Dean pats Castiel’s shoulder, a strained smile on his lips. He can’t expect the guy to find his soulmate on the first try. He barely has any luck luring women to his bed for sex, never mind finding someone he could actually spend the rest of his life with. “S’ok, buddy. It’s only the first night.”

 

Castiel looks between the hand still resting on his shoulder and his charge’s face. There’s hope in Dean’s eyes. Faith. The sight of it makes Castiel’s grace preen, his wings straightening with his back. “You are right, Dean. Tomorrow will begin the search for your soulmate.” 

 

Squeezing Castiel’s shoulder once before letting go, Dean grins. “Amen.”


	7. Chapter 7

After setting up a time for Castiel to meet Dean at work, Castiel flies home. He appears in his bedroom, sighing as he starts taking off the ridiculous uniform Gabriel forced him into earlier. He hangs up each article of clothing in his closet, frowning at the pink and white stripes. 

 

He pulls on a pair of fleece sweatpants and a loose cotton t-shirt before heading out into the kitchen where Gabriel is surely waiting for him. Sure enough, the older angel sits at the breakfast bar eating a bowl of Fruit Loops drizzled with chocolate syrup. Castiel’s nose scrunches up at the sight of the sweet concoction. He stands on the other side of the counter and starts to sort through their combined mail. 

 

Gabriel looks up from his phone, eating more cereal. The sweetness explodes in his mouth and he smiles at Castiel. “You were out late.”

 

Castiel shrugs as he puts his mail into a separate pile, then proceeds to sort through that. He puts junk mail in one stack, bills in another. “My charge required my presence for an extended period of time.”

 

“So, the matchmaking went well today?” Gabriel asks before eating another spoonful. 

 

“Should I discuss that with you, Gabriel? You are my employer.” Castiel stretches, bare toes curling on the cool kitchen tiles. 

 

Gabriel eats a couple more bites, eyebrows furrowed as he thinks. His wings flap lightly behind him. “I’m asking as your brother and employer. This is your first client after all. Balthazar and I are gonna check on ya anyway. You might as well spill some of the beans now. In confidence, of course.” 

 

Gabriel winks at his younger brother when he says the last statement. Castiel frowns back, pulling one of the stools from around the counter. He starts opening some of his bills, eyes scanning over the numbers as he does the math in his head. “I actually only looked into two potential partners for Dean. One of which, he strongly opposed due to their close relationship.”

 

The archangel hums around a mouthful of cereal, raising an eyebrow. After swallowing, he points his spoon at Castiel. “Yet you stayed late?”

 

“Yes. Dean invited me out for dinner.”

 

Castiel doesn’t look up as he says the statement, assuming that clients must ask for their cupids to go out all the time. Gabriel’s stunned silence, however, makes Castiel’s wings tense. “Is that not appropriate?”

 

Shaking his head, Gabriel pushes himself out of his frozen state. “No, it’s perfectly fine. Your job is to satisfy your charge. If he asked you out, that’s his business. I’m just surprised he did.”

 

The slight smirk and amused glint in Gabriel’s whiskey colored eyes makes Castiel’s wings arch up in defense. Castiel crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you implying, Gabriel?”

 

To avoid the question, Gabriel begins drinking the chocolate milk left over in his bowl. His hidden expression forces Castiel to sit in suspicious silence. Gabriel wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugs. “I’m not ‘implying’ anything. I am surprised. I didn’t think you would hit it off with the guy.”

 

“You’re surprised that someone other than you or Balthazar actually enjoys my company?” 

 

“That’s one way to put it,” Gabriel says, standing to put his dirty dishes in the sink. “You aren’t exactly the social type, lil bro.” 

 

Castiel squints at the counter top. “In any case, Dean just wished to spend more time together before I begin the search for his soulmate.” 

 

The sound of water splashing fills the kitchen as Gabriel starts cleaning his dishes. Castiel turns around and watches his brother work, still squinting. He pulls his wings close to his back, body stock still as he goes through his memories of training. The process of matchmaking is simple, but there is something special about soulmates. Something designated by God himself, and it’s beautiful. But every relationship creates a different reaction. 

 

“Gabriel? Have you seen soulmates bond?” Castiel’s voice is quiet, the question almost drowned out by the sound of the faucet running.

 

Gabriel turns the water off, drying his hands when he faces his brother. “I was the angel in charge of our first client, you know that.” 

 

Castiel nods, pulling his wings even closer to his back. He’s normally confident in his knowledge, but the fact that souls are so abstract makes his feathers itch. “What did it look like to you?” 

 

Gabriel’s wings flutter up, feathers rustling like leaves on a tree. His eyes flash with the blue tint of his grace at the memory. The archangel stares at the empty space beside Castiel, hands still holding the dish rag. “I didn’t so much as see it, but taste it. Like chocolate and sea salt caramel. The client’s relationship was smooth, sweet. Our second client, Balthazar handled. He said that it looked like a rose bush grew around the souls.” 

 

“That makes things… complicated,” Castiel murmurs, anxiety making his limbs twitch. 

 

Offering a knowing smile, Gabriel shakes a finger at his brother. “Only because you make it that way. Ya know how what you saw tonight was colored? It’s like that but bigger. It’s impossible to miss.” 

 

“And if I can’t find Dean’s soulmate where he lives?” 

 

“All of our clients have either known or lived near their soulmates. Humans are just so preoccupied with other things that they miss what is right in front of them. Trust me, you’ll find Dean’s soulmate.” 

 

Gabriel dries the dishes and puts them away, wings flapping slightly as he stands on his tip toes. Castiel stares into space as he contemplates what his brother said. With a decisive nod, Castiel stands. “I’m going to go to bed. I will probably be gone before you wake up. Dean goes to work very early.”

 

Gabriel nods, closing the cabinets. “Alright, lil bro. Good luck tomorrow.” 

 

Castiel pats his brother’s shoulder as he passes, padding softly to his bedroom. The mint walls soothe his thoughts as he settles onto his bed. As he sleeps, his grace supplies fuzzy image after fuzzy image of what he thinks Dean’s bond will look like.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean paces in his kitchen yet again as he waits for Castiel. He’s ready early today, anxious about some pitches he has to present to the board throughout the day. His laptop bag smacks against his hip as he moves, hands wringing the strap. His hair is slicked over to one side, his dress pants and blue dress shirt carefully starched. The stiffness of the fabric, the hard lines, it makes his skin itch. He knows he looks good, professional, like someone who knows what he’s doing. But the idea of presenting his work on the brink of getting a promotion puts his nerves on edge. 

 

When there’s a soft knock on his door, Dean lets out a relieved sigh. He yanks the door open to reveal Castiel, wearing the same pink uniform and tan trench coat. Dean laughs, some tension leaking out of him. 

 

“What is so amusing?” Castiel asks, looking down at his clothes. He knows Dean has seen him in this outfit before. 

 

Dean waves a hand at the cupid as he picks up his coffee and hustles out the door. “Nothing really. You wearing pink just tickles me for some reason.”

 

The human locks the door, hands still a little shaky, but there’s a smile on his face. Castiel steps back to give Dean room, wings spreading a little at Dean’s words. They walk down the hallway of the complex together, Dean shaking his head as they go into the parking lot. Castiel looks around at the cars around them, trying to push down his curiosity as they approach Dean’s Impala. 

 

“I can fly to your office if you prefer, Dean,” Castiel offers, looking up at the open sky. It’s a little cloudy, a cool breeze lazily pushing them across the horizon. Castiel stretches out his wings a little to feel the wind against his primary feathers. Meanwhile, Dean juggles his keys, and his coffee as he unlocks the car. 

 

“I don’t know the address off the top of my head,” Dean mumbles as he opens the driver’s side door. Castiel narrows his eyes a little at the weak excuse, but takes the statement as Dean wanting Castiel to stay with him.

 

The angel settles in the passenger seat, immediately rolling down the window after Dean starts the car. Dean glances at Castiel, feeling a little guilty for forcing him to take the human route. He knows it’s selfish, but he doesn’t want the awkward cupid sitting in his office alone until Dean arrives. And if he’s being honest with himself, he could use Castiel’s company to help him unwind. Something about the angel’s naivety and dry humor comforts the man in a way he really needs at the moment. 

 

The engine rumbles, the car’s body humming around them as Dean drives out of the parking lot. The silence makes Castiel shift in his spot, wings puffing up once again as he looks at Dean’s smile. 

 

“Does the color not suit me?” 

 

Dean speeds up as he weaves through the Monday morning traffic. He quirks an eyebrow at the question. “What?”

 

Castiel takes a deep breath, wings still puffed. He watches the streets and cars and buildings pass by them as he tries to reword his concerns. Soon, Dean is pulling into the parking garage and Castiel finally speaks. “Why does my wearing a certain color amuse you? Does the shade clash with my complexion?”

 

Dean puts the car in park and turns a little in his seat. He frowns a little as he examines the cupid. Castiel’s hair still sticks up around his head, the curls as dark as his wings. His eyes are wide, bright and fierce. The blue pulls out all the color around them. The pink actually brightens his cheeks and lips and eyes, draws more attention to the stubble along his jaw and the power surging through his wings. Dean swallows as Castiel stares back, eyes unwavering. 

 

“No,” Dean mumbles, clearing his throat when his voice comes out weak. “The color actually looks good. It's just that it suggests something softer, but you're…” 

 

Castiel squints, tilting his head slightly. His wings open a little, subconsciously responding to Dean's submissive tone. “I'm what, Dean?”

 

“Fierce. All sharp angles and hard eyes. Ya look like you could kill someone even though you're wearing princess pink.” 

 

Castiel’s eyes widen at the description of his physical appearance. Human’s use of adjectives always befuddled Castiel. Gabriel and Balthazar consistently teased him, telling him he’s always been a “baby in a trench coat” or that sometimes his eyes “bored into people’s souls.” Dean chews on his bottom lip as he waits for Castiel to respond. He expects the cupid to disappear, or tell Dean fuck you in that gravelly voice. 

 

Instead, the corners of the cupid’s mouth quirk up and his wings pull back from their dominant stance. “I suppose the pink is misleading, although it suits my profession.” 

 

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Dean moves to get out of the car. “Good to know that isn’t your choice in clothes. Whoever picked out that shade of pink loves Valentine’s Day and chick flicks   
too much.” 

 

Castiel squints at the dashboard in front of him. “What does movies about young chickens have to do with the color pink?”

 

Dean stops halfway out the door and looks over his shoulder at the angel in his passenger seat. When he sees the serious expression on Castiel’s face, Dean begins to laugh. He leans forward, grabbing the door jam to keep himself from falling onto the concrete. “No, dude. Chick flicks are romantic movies. Stuff girls like.” 

 

Castiel watches the human laugh at him and smiles slightly. He’s glad he could bring his charge some happiness during their time together.The angel could sense Dean’s tension, could see the obsessive swirling of the human’s soul. Castiel gets out of the car, running his palms down the front of his worn trench coat. “Oh. Yes, Balthazar has always had an affinity for romantic movies. He finds the search for love to be one of humanity’s greatest conquests.” 

 

Dean shakes his head as he finally stands up. He grabs a folder from the backseat, tucking it under his arm. He sticks his tongue out as he figures out how to hold his coffee, keep his bag from swinging forward and hitting the car, and not spill his coffee on himself. Castiel moves around the car and takes the coffee from Dean’s hands, holding it for the man. Dean gives Castiel a small smile in thanks as he locks the car. “Sounds like ya know him well.”

 

Castiel nods, still holding Dean’s coffee as the businessman leads them towards the building’s entrance. “I have known Balthazar since I was a fledgling. He’s been a close friend of my brother, Gabriel, and I for years.”

 

Dean furrows his eyebrows, realizing that Castiel just admitted that his employers are his brother and best friend. It doesn’t seem strange to Dean, having worked for both Bobby and Ellen growing up. Pays the bills. But it does surprise him that Castiel has a friend who seems more socially ept. He absently grabs the door into the building, holding it open for the angel. Castiel stops at the threshold and looks at Dean. He holds out the coffee for the man to take. 

 

“I will still be by your side, you and your colleagues will just be unable to see me,” Castiel explains as Dean takes his coffee. 

 

Dean simply nods, watching as the angel before him disappears. Taking a deep breath, Dean goes through the door, skin prickling as he thinks about Castiel following close behind him. 

 

Castiel takes the chance to take in his surroundings. The building is nice, the air cool. The air pushing out from the vents tickles his hair as he follows Dean through the maze of cubicles. The human casually greets person after person, his smile as bright as his soul. Dean’s comfortable with these interactions, even playfully winking at a secretary as he passes her desk. Castiel pauses, tugging at both their souls to look into their connection. Dean’s soul sours around the secretary's, the color of their future moments a sickly yellow with sparks of maroon. Castiel frowns and pulls his grace back, wondering why Dean would flirt with someone he couldn’t possibly be interested in. 

 

The rest of the journey to Dean’s office is short, but Castiel looks into two more potential mates. One being a different secretary, a redhead who makes fun of Dean’s suit as he passes. That bond didn’t taste like sour apple juice, but only showed friendship. When Castiel spotted a future moment where the woman is with another woman, Castiel smiled. The other was a gruff looking man Dean addresses as Benny. The man looked at Dean appreciatively and the brief touch on Dean’s shoulder made Castiel curious. But that bond ends after a couple years and the two go back to being friends. 

 

The lack of success doesn’t bother Castiel as they enter Dean’s office. Instead, the angel focuses on inspecting the human’s work space. The mahogany desk is large and takes up a lot of space in the center of the room. A bookshelf adorns the left wall, burdened with multiple volumes of car manuals and encyclopedias of car designs. Beside those books are a couple of photographs. Castiel stares at one that must have been taken recently, Dean with his arms wrapped around the shoulders of Jo and a taller man with shaggy hair Castiel assumes is Sam. The angel finds himself smiling at the their frozen grins. 

 

Dean sits in his desk chair, sighing as he logs into his computer. Soon after he’s settled people start coming in and out of his office. First the mail, then Charlie with a new invoice, then Zachariah to remind him about his presentation. 

 

Zachariah sneers at Dean over the expanse of his desk, eyes like glass marbles. Castiel steps away from the man when he sits in the chair across from Dean. The man’s soul is twisted, pulsating with greed and it makes Castiel’s stomach turn. Unused to physical reactions to disgust, the angel wraps his hands around his stomach and focuses on Dean instead. Dean’s face is professionally neutral as he speaks with his superior, but his soul curls away from Zachariah as well. 

 

The two men talk for a few minutes before Zachariah departs. Castiel’s muscles relax and he leans against the bookshelf as he sighs. Dean also slumps in his chair, holding his head in his hands. Castiel moves closer to his charge and puts a light hand on Dean’s shoulder as he makes himself visible. 

 

“You will do well, Dean,” Castiel says, voice soft. “They would not have asked you to do this if they did not have faith in your abilities. Believe in yourself.”

 

Dean grunts, face still covered. He relaxes slightly under Castiel’s gentle touch, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “You sound like one of those motivational cat posters.” 

 

Castiel furrows his eyebrows, trying to recall if he has ever seen such a thing, but comes up short. He squeezes Dean’s shoulder once before pulling away. “If you would prefer, I can remain here during your meeting. I do not wish to make you feel even more uncomfortable during your presentation.”

 

Dean looks up at the angel, sitting back against his chair with a deep sigh. He takes in Castiel’s calm concern and feels the tumbling in his stomach settle a little. “You can come. It might help, knowing I have an angel in my corner.” 

 

Dean smiles at Castiel, knowing the angel won’t understand the term, and feels his heart rate slow. Castiel’s right. He can do this. He’s been around cars his entire life, knows his own better than he knows himself. And the angel’s blue eyes, staring at him with certainty and faith, settles him. It brings out his normal charming confidence. Castiel notices how the human calms and lets himself smile back. 

 

When Dean notices the slight upturn of Castiel’s lips, exposing some of his teeth, Dean’s heart stutters. He quickly looks away, staring at his computer as if he has an important email to send. He tries to get his lungs to feel less tight after the soft moment, and clears his throat. Castiel senses the end of the exchange and goes back to his invisible state to stand in the corner. 

 

Taking a deep breath, Dean settles a couple more things before picking up his folder and flash drive for his presentation. He’ll be 15 minutes early, but he wants to make sure everything works before the board gets there. He stands in the doorway of his office for a second, squaring his shoulders before he heads to the board room. 

 

Castiel follows him silently, standing in the corner in the far back as Dean sets up. He makes himself visible to show Dean where he stands, leaning against the wall. “I’ll be here the whole time.” 

Dean smiles at him from the end of the long conference table, nodding his understanding. As he goes back to work turning on the laptop and plugging in his flash drive, Castiel makes himself invisible once more. It’s odd to be able to watch everything around him without fear of someone finding him out. It allows him actually observe humanity as it passes around him. He watches Dean work, fingers typing surely on the laptop. The projector whirs to life, blue spilling out onto the the wall next to the Dean. The human sticks out his tongue slightly as he works, drawing Castiel’s attention to Dean’s lips. He shifts on his feet, crossing his arms as his cheeks heat up. He counts the freckles along Dean’s cheek bones to pass the time. 

 

The sudden appearance of other people in the room makes Castiel blink and look away from Dean. He notices that his heart beat is uneven. His eyebrows furrow and he puts a hand on his chest. His heart slows to a more even pace the longer he looks away from Dean and he wonders if he was picking up his charge’s nervousness. He shakes out his primary and secondary feathers as well as his head to calm down. 

 

Dean’s voice addresses the men and women in the room, his hands shaking slightly. The man takes a deep breath as he points to certain aspects of his designs. When he trips over his own words, he stops, then looks to the back corner. His superiors think he’s avoiding their gazes. Instead, he imagines blue eyes watching him. He imagines the small encouraging smile on Castiel’s face. Smiling to himself, Dean turns back to his work and gives the rest of his presentation without a hitch.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean closes the office door behind him with shaky hands. He turns and leans back against the cool wood, then fist pumps. Castiel reveals himself to his charge, sitting on one of the cushioned arms of a chair on the other side of Dean’s desk. He can’t help but smile as he takes in the human’s happiness. Dean’s cheeks flush when he takes in the genuine grin on Castiel’s face, noting how most of it manifests around the angel’s eyes in laugh lines. Castiel takes it as Dean’s excitement over his success and continues to smile. 

 

“Congratulations, Dean. I’m glad that your superiors enjoyed your designs well enough to consider them for a future model.” 

 

The angel’s voice is gravelly as ever, but the sincerity in it makes Dean stand taller. He walks around his desk and makes sure he has no emails, leaning over his desk chair. He clicks away at things, logging out of his computer. Pulling on his suit jacket, he settles his laptop bag over his shoulder and looks to Castiel. 

 

“Let’s go get lunch,” Dean says, holding his hand out at the door. 

 

Castiel squints at his charge, wings still relaxed as he considers the appropriateness of Dean’s request. His growing closeness with Dean doesn’t disturb him, but it pushes the boundaries of Castiel’s loyalty to professionalism. The angel nods after a couple seconds. “It will be another good opportunity to continue our search. So far, not many of the people you work with are compatible with you.” 

 

Dean’s smile falters slightly at the reminder of why Castiel is actually with him. The man scolds himself for forgetting that he paid for the angel’s assistance, that Castiel isn’t there to make friends with him. Castiel is a cupid, not someone he’s supposed to take on lunch dates. He forces the smile to stay on his face and nods in agreement with Castiel. 

 

“Makes sense to me,” he mutters and pushes past Casitel. He doesn’t have to turn around to know that the angel is invisible and following him out of the office. He adjusts his laptop bag on his shoulder, trying to ignore the cold spot making a home in his chest. 

 

Dean has accepted the fact he’s alone most of the time, but for some reason he let himself believe that Castiel could be his friend after just a day. So they’d eaten dinner together, so the angel understood certain aspects of him that only Sam knew existed, so the angel looks at him like he’s the most important and interesting thing in the room. None of that matters.

 

As soon as they reach the car, the angel reappears outside the passenger side door. He stares down at his own reflection in the glass, then lifts his gaze to Dean. The tension rolling off Dean makes the hair on the back of his neck bristle. 

 

“Dean, I will find your soulmate,” Castiel says, looking back down at his reflection. “Today is only the first day. There is no reason to stress. I assure you that I was well trained before taking on this position.”

 

Dean unlocks the door without looking up. The words rush through his mind, makes his throat feel tight. He forces himself to smile as he gets in the car. “I know. It’s just hard not to worry, ya know?”

 

Castiel settles in the passenger seat and nods. Dean puts the car into reverse, quickly pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the closest diner. Castiel watches the human drive for a couple seconds before answering. “I understand. Finding your true partner is a stress inducing journey, but that’s what I am here for. You are my charge until your request is satisfied, and I do not intend on disappointing you. You deserve this.”

 

Dean glances at Castiel, eyes wide and ears hot. He swallows and keeps his eyes on the road from then on out. He doesn’t comment on Castiel’s certainty, just pulls into the Denny’s parking lot. Dean doesn’t actually say anything to the cupid as they walk into the restaurant. Instead, he lets the hostess lead the duo to a booth in the back of the place. Dean immediately picks up his menu and stares down at the words even though he knows he’ll end up getting an omelet. He didn’t eat breakfast and his stomach still turns with post-presentation anxiety. Castiel settles in the booth across from him, not bothering with the menu. 

 

The waiter comes up to the table with a wide smile, pen at the ready as he looks the two men up and down. Castiel immediately reaches out to test Dean’s compatibility with the stranger, jaw clenching when the future shows Dean breaking up with the man after a couple weeks. The young man doesn’t pay much attention to the angel, just raises an eyebrow at the large wings folded up against the tan trenchcoat. Instead, he leans closer to Dean as he speaks. 

 

“Hi, I’m Nathan and I’ll be your server for today. Can I get you anything to drink?”

 

It doesn’t bother Castiel that Nathan speaks only to Dean, especially considering he doesn’t plan on ordering anything. Dean, however, looks between the kid and the angel across from him. He pointedly stares at Castiel. “You want some coffee, Cas?” 

 

Looking up from the menu in front of him, Castiel’s eyes are wide. No one has ever given him a nickname besides Gabriel and Balthazar. He never did care for the nickname Cassie, but let it slide. Somehow, Dean’s shortened version of his name makes feathers puff up in pride. 

 

“I have never had occasion to try it, so why not,” the angel finally says. The small glint in Dean’s eyes makes Castiel’s wings flutter as he looks back down at his menu. Dean notices the happy motion and turns a smile to the waiter. Nathan glances at Castiel with a small frown before looking back at Dean.

 

“Two coffees would be great. And I’ll take an omelet with american cheese, spinach, ham and tomato.” Dean holds out his and Castiel’s menu as he talks. 

 

Nathan writes down the order, takes the menus, and departs with a huff. Dean watches the boy go, rubbing his palms together. “I take it he wasn’t the one?” 

 

Castiel tilts his head, but nods. Dean shrugs and leans back against the booth. He takes in the diner around him, sighing as his sadness fades. He lets the joy of his success fill him instead. He’s moving up in the company and Castiel is going to find his soulmate. He won’t be alone anymore and still be doing what he loves. It’s a win-win. 

 

Castiel also looks around at the other people, tugging at each soul except for the minors. The cupid’s eyes stare off into the distance as he wanders through pairing after pairing. Most ended in a few weeks, 2 lasted for years before crumbling apart. Every time, Dean ended up lying on his couch holding a bottle of beer and mumbling to himself. 

 

With a new found silence between them, Castiel passes the time watching Dean again. The human twists a ring on his right hand, the silver band shimmering under the restaurant's lights. Dean’s eyes are unfocused, staring at the space past Castiel’s shoulder. His hair starts to fall out of the careful part, drooping slightly over Dean’s forehead. Castiel surprises himself when his fingers twitch with an urge to fix Dean’s hair. He clasps his hands together to hold himself back, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to understand the urge. 

 

It’s common for Balthazar to reach out and straighten out some feathers on his wings, or for Gabriel to attempt to placate his stubborn curls. Both of the angels are close with Castiel, their intimacy something that Castiel doesn’t often notice, he’s so used to it. Yet with Dean, there isn’t a closeness brewed by time together. It’s this instant connection. Castiel figures that this desire to be more intimate with Dean stems from his celestial nature, the need to aid and protect humanity as God intended. Dean is his first official charge. He never had the chance to actually experience the charge-angel relationship, and now he finds it confusing as well as enthralling.   
Nathan places two mugs on the laminate table, not bothering to interact with Dean. The clack sounds brings Dean’s attention back to his surroundings and he immediately picks up his cup. As he takes his first sip, his eyes focus on the cupid sitting across from him. Castiel stares down at his drink, wrapping his hands around the porcelain. 

 

Warmth seeps into Castiel’s fingers as he brings the coffee closer to his face. He inhales the steam rising from the brown liquid. It smells rich. Dean smiles as Castiel inspects his drink. 

 

“You should try it before you decide if you wanna ruin it with cream and sugar,” Dean says,   
lowering his own cup. 

 

Castiel squints at Dean, but follows the human’s instruction. The bitterness of the flavor strikes Castiel’s tongue first, the warmth filling his chest as he swallows. His secondary feathers flutter and he takes another, longer sip. Dean notices the movement of the wings and smiles as he watches Castiel close his eyes as he drinks. 

 

“This… is amazing, Dean.” Castiel’s voice is a soft sigh, lips turned up into a small smile.

 

Dean laughs, putting his own cup back on the table. “I’m glad, Cas.” 

 

The nickname sends another tingle through Castiel’s grace and his smile turns into a bright grin. “Cas?”

 

Dean blinks rapidly, lips parted as he takes in the angel’s expression. His cheeks heat up slightly as he looks at anything but Castiel. “Sorry, I give people nicknames. I can stop if ya want.”

 

Castiel shakes his head, resting his mug on the table with his hands still wrapped it. “No, I enjoy it. It is definitely better than Gabriel’s and Balthazar’s nickname for me.”

 

Dean raises an eyebrow, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “And what would that be?”

 

“Cassie…” the angel mumbles, chin resting against his chest. Dean huffs a laugh, shaking his head a little. 

 

“Yeah, Cas suits you better,” the man says, eyes focused on Castiel’s. When Castiel doesn’t turn from the gaze, Dean finds that he can’t look away. Instead, he notices the darker flecks of blue that adds another layer to the color. He blinks and goes about memorizing the power and softness he sees there. 

 

When Nathan clears his throat, Dean jumps back. He looks up at the young man, a blush creeping up his neck. Nathan puts the omelet in front of the business man and Dean mumbles a thank you before the waiter leaves them alone again. 

Castiel rubs his palms on his pant legs, watching his charge start eating his lunch. He sips at his coffee again, letting the taste distract him from the low hum in his grace from Dean’s unwavering stare. 

 

Awkwardness makes Dean’s throat thick and he frowns at the empty table space in front of the angel. After swallowing, Dean finally forces himself to look at Castiel’s face again.

 

“So, Gabriel’s your brother?” Dean asks just to start a conversation. 

 

Castiel relaxes when Dean asks the question, leaning back against the booth. “Technically, all angels are my brethren, as we are all the same species. I know each of them, have fought beside them. But when I was a fledgling, Gabriel often looked after me.”

 

Castiel smiles fondly, eyes glazing over slightly as he remembers his younger years. “He was an archangel, one of God’s firsts. Most of our older brothers did not dote upon us younglings. They focused on training us more. But Gabe… he taught me how to care for my wings, how to fly. He told me human stories, even brought me to Earth a few times to see the beauty we’re honored with protecting. He taught me the meaning of family.” 

 

Dean slows his steady eating towards the end of Castiel’s short speech. The adoration in Castiel’s voice makes Dean itch to call Sam. Dean offers the angel a knowing smile. “He sounds great.”

 

Castiel’s undignified snort makes Dean raise his eyebrows as he goes back to eating. “Since my youth, I’ve found my brother’s trickster nature to be quite irritating.”

 

“Brothers are supposed to bother you, Cas,” Dean says before taking a swig of his coffee. “‘S part of the experience.”

 

“Sam irritates you?” Castiel tilts his head and Dean scolds himself for thinking the movement is cute. 

 

This time, Dean snorts. “Hell, yeah. He goes on jogs and only eats rabbit food and gets off on research. He eats one burrito and he gets toxic. He likes that new age music crap and always makes these bitch faces at me and uses puppy eyes to get everything he wants. Back when I got home from overseas, he constantly wanted to talk about my feelings and replaced all the booze in my liquor cabinets with bottles of water. He’s a 6 foot 4 pain in my ass, but I love him anyway. That’s what being brothers is about.”

 

Castiel regards him with that same quizzical squint he always does, processing what the human told him. “I suppose you’re right.” 

 

Dean break apart more of his omelet with his fork, stabbing chunks of tomato before taking the bite. His eyes watch Cas with a new appreciation. The angel appears more human in Dean’s mind now. “What bout Balthazar?” 

 

Castiel’s fond smile returns. “We grew up together. We’re from the same garrison, created at the same time. He’s been by my side for as long as I can remember.” 

 

“Balthazar and Gabriel seem to get along.”

 

Castiel’s eyes widen slightly at the statement. “What makes you say that?”

 

“I saw them on some talk show. That’s what gave me the idea to send in a request.” Dean looks between both Castiel’s eyes. The words I’m sure glad I did rest on Dean’s tongue, and he washes them down with his coffee. “They looked like they get along well.”

 

Castiel nods. “They are similar in demeanor, yes.” 

 

The conversation fades into a quietness that Dean decides suits them. It’s light, warm even. It doesn’t press either of them to say more, to be more in the other’s presence. They’re just there. 

 

The man pushes his empty plate forward and works on finishing his coffee. A glance at his watch makes him sigh. He looks up at the cupid, the smallest of smiles decorating his lips. The soft expression causes Castiel to blink. His pulse jumps from what he assumes is the caffeine. 

 

“Ready to get back to work?” Dean asks. 

 

Castiel can’t help the smile that reveals the laugh lines around his eyes as he nods in agreement.


	10. Chapter 10

A week passes with a similar routine. Castiel rides with Dean to work everyday. He remains visible while in Dean’s office. At first he spent the time checking the bonds Dean has with everyone in the building. When every single potential match fails, Castiel starts spending time reading the books on cars Dean has in his office. They go to lunch at a different restaurant each day, giving Castiel a larger pool of souls to search. When the cupid isn’t doing this, they discuss all manners of things. Each night Castiel goes home with a warm tingle in his grace from being able to share his charge’s company, but the fact he hasn’t succeeded in finding Dean’s soulmate nags at him. 

 

Now, Castiel doesn’t even bother waiting for Dean to unlock the door to his apartment. He motions his fingers over the mechanism, then shoves the door open. Stomping into the apartment, Castiel frowns at the clean counters and empty kitchen table. His wings pull taut, feathers bristling. 

 

Dean stares at the angel, eyes wide as he takes in Castiel’s frustration. The sudden anger in Castiel’s eyes makes his mouth dry. 

 

“Something ya wanna talk about?” the man asks. 

 

Castiel cross his arms over his chest, fingers clenching around the sleeves of his trench coat. He watches Dean tip toe around him, closing the door and placing his laptop bag on the kitchen table. “It’s almost been a week, Dean.”

 

Dean takes his suit coat off and folds it over the back of a chair. He shrugs as he moves towards the refrigerator to grab them some beers. He holds one out to the angel, eyebrows raised to implore Castiel to take the drink. Cas snatches it from Dean’s loose grip, popping off the cap with a smooth twist of his arm. The first sip of alcohol does nothing but give him something to do. 

 

“I’ve been looking for the one for years, Cas. I don’t expect you to find them in under a week.” 

 

Dean leans against the counter, taking swigs of his own drink. The cupid’s nervousness worries him slightly, but he’s come to trust Cas. Castiel’s presence soothes him now, his curious stares as Dean talks, his confused squints when Dean makes pop culture references, his accidental humor when he only means to be blunt. Dean smiles more around him, laughs more. The few nightmares he still got had stopped, instead replaced with dreams of Cas in the front seat or just the overwhelming sensation of blue. The human keeps these dreams to himself, of course. He pushes them aside and reminds himself that Cas is there on business, even if they had struck up some sort of odd friendship. 

 

Castiel shakes his head, the motion pulling Dean from his thoughts. Cas’s fist clenches around the bottle so hard Dean’s surprised the glass didn’t break. “You don’t understand, Dean. The bonds… they’re getting shorter and shorter. Every potential match leaves you worse off than you are now.” 

 

Before Dean can even process what the cupid’s words could possibly mean, his cell phone buzzes in his pocket. Dean frowns a little, digging it out. When Lisa’s name lights up his screen, Dean’s stomach drops. “Shit, Lisa’s here.”

 

He swipes the app open, bouncing on his feet as he holds the phone to his ear. “Hey, Lis, go on and bring him up.” 

 

As he hangs up, Dean notices Castiel’s outfit once again. He’d gotten used to the pink over the past couple days, but now Ben and Lisa are coming up the stairs. Dean grabs Castiel’s wrist and starts pulling him to his bedroom. Cas stares at Dean’s hand with wide eyes, his wings twitching. 

 

“Dean, hiding me is unnecessary,” Castiel says, pulling his hand back. “I can just make myself invisible or leave. I understand if you wish to spend time with your son.”

 

Dean shakes his head. He looks away from Castiel, rubbing his hands on his jeans. He doesn’t want Cas to leave. In fact, he kind of wants to know what Ben will think of the angel. And he doesn’t want Cas to be by himself after such a frustrating week. Dean wants to help him, be there for him. “Just… stay for now. You should meet Ben anyway. Could help right?”

 

Castiel stares at Dean as the man looks away from him. He can sense Dean’s anxiety, the dark yellow swirl in the man’s soul. He nods, watching the color fade. “As you wish.”

 

Sighing, Dean smiles slightly and tugs at the trench coat. “Take this off, we gotta change your clothes.” 

 

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Castiel raises an eyebrow, frowning slightly. 

 

“You look like a damn cupid, man. C’mon, you can wear some of my stuff til ya go home.” When Cas continues frowning at him, Dean rolls his eyes and shoves the angel’s arm. “Please, Cas.”

 

With a huff, Castiel pulls off his trenchcoat. He folds it over his arm and places it on the end of Dean’s bed. “What do you want me to wear?”

 

Dean digs through his drawers until he finds a pair of jeans he hasn’t been able to fit into for a couple months and a red henley. When he turns to face Castiel again, the angel already has his vest and shirt unbuttoned. The sight of the pale skin underneath the white cloth puts his heart into high gear, the pumping so strong he can feel it in his toes. The human’s first reaction is to look away, give the guy some privacy. Instead, he continues to stare as Castiel slides his arms out of the suit coat, vest and shirt. Cas folds each article before stacking them on top of his trench coat. 

 

Dean swallows dryly, shoving the clothes against Castiel’s chest before rushing out of the room. Cas looks down at the bundle of fabric in his arms, then at the door Dean just ran out of. His head tilts unconsciously, eyebrows furrowed. He’d heard his charge’s heart beat. Worry starts to thread its way through his grace. He quickly pulls the shirt Dean gave him over his head. The cotton brushes over his skin in a familiar way, relaxing him as if he just out on a pair of his own pajamas. Dean’s scent clings to the shirt, a mixture of Gain laundry detergent, cedar, cologne and something that can only be labeled as Dean. Castiel presses the collar of the shirt against his nose, trying find a comparison to the smell, but falling short. With a frustrated huff, he changes into Dean’s jeans. 

 

All of his folded clothes stay on the bed as Castiel goes back into the kitchen to join Dean. The business man looks up when the angel enters the room, giving Castiel a once over. Dean’s jeans ride low on Castiel’s hips, the shirt draped over his thinner chest. Even though they don't fit, the sight of Cas in his clothes makes Dean’s palms sweat. 

 

Dean clears his throat and turns away from Cas just as there’s a knock on the door. Opening it with a grin, Dean greets his ex-wife and son with an excitement Cas doesn't quite understand. His curiosity zings through his grace. Reaching out, Castiel pushes Lisa and Dean’s souls towards each other. Logically, the cupid knows that the relationship had already failed. The possibility that Lisa still be Dean’s soul mate, however, makes Castiel’s wings tense. The couple’s history makes things last longer than the other bonds Castiel had witnessed during the past couple days. But within a few short months, Dean’s sitting in his office with a glass of whiskey in his hand. The heavy blues and yellows coating the memories makes Castiel’s throat thick and he immediately pulls back. 

 

The angel changes his focus to the corporal forms in front of him. Lisa is a beautiful woman with laugh lines that accent her warm brown eyes. Her gaze stays on Dean for the most part, but she parts a curious glance in Castiel’s direction. Ben, however, can’t stop staring at Castiel. The young boy looks the cupid up and down, lips parted. He bounces on his heels a little, ready to break free of his mother’s grip. Castiel meets Ben’s gaze and offers a small smile as he pulls his wings tighter against his back. 

 

“Lis, Ben, this is my friend Cas,” Dean says, gesturing to the angel standing in his kitchen. “Cas, this is Lisa and Ben.”

 

Following custom, Castiel steps forward and extends his hand towards Lisa. “Hello, Lisa” 

 

Lisa’s eyes widen. She glances at Dean as she takes Castiel’s hand, holding it lightly. Dean shrugs when he meets her awed stare. “Hello…”

 

Cas doesn’t hold her hand for long, shaking it once before stepping back. He then kneels in front of Ben so they’re close to the same height. He offers his hand as he did with Lisa. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Ben. Your father speaks highly of you.” 

 

Dean blushes slightly at Cas’s words. Ben blinks at Castiel as he shakes the cupid’s hand. “You’re an angel, aren’t you. That’s why you have wings.”

 

“Ben! Don’t be inconsiderate,” Lisa admonishes, squeezing the young boy’s shoulder. She smiles at Castiel apologetically. 

 

“That’s alright,” he tells the mother with his own smile before looking back down at Ben. “I am indeed an angel. Hence my extra appendages.” 

 

Dean snorts and Castiel beams up at him. Ben looks over Castiel’s shoulders, eyes still wide as he steps into the apartment with his overnight bag. 

 

Lisa grabs Dean’s arm and pulls him into the hallway. “Can I talk to you alone for a second?”

 

“Course, Lis,” Dean says, looking back at Cas. The angel nods at his charge and Dean closes the door behind them. 

 

Cas turns his attention back to the young human still blatantly staring at him. Chuckling, Castiel stands and moves back into the threshold between the kitchen and living room. He spreads his wings out as far as he can, allowing Ben to see their large span. 

 

“Wicked,” the boy mumbles, stepping closer to examine Castiel’s secondary flight feathers. Ben’s awe-struck eyes and wide smile make Castiel grin. He flaps his wings slightly, showing off the power in the muscles underneath the pretty feathers. Ben jumps back and laughs out loud. 

 

Dean and Lisa stand in the doorway. Castiel pulls his wings back, still smiling. His wings press closer to his shoulders when he notices Lisa and Dean staring at him as well, but Ben’s excitement soothes Castiel’s nerves. 

 

Eyes still on the angel, Dean motions for Ben to go to Lisa. “Go say bye to your mother, Ben.”

 

The boy does as he’s told, hugging Lisa tightly around the waist. Lisa pulls her gaze away from Castiel to speak with her son, so Cas turns his smile onto Dean. His charge swallows as he stares at him, rubbing his palms together. Cas’s eyebrows furrow and he puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

 

“Everything alright?” Castiel asks, eyes searching Dean’s face for more signs of distress. Dean shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 

“Everything’s good. I just never saw your wings like that. They’re kinda striking.” 

 

Dean’s voice is low so Lisa and Ben won’t hear him; his eyes look past Castiel’s shoulder and into the living room. When he finally glances at the angel, Castiel notices the brightness of the green. Cas blinks, face warm as he stares back. 

 

“Thank you, Dean.” 

 

“You’re welcome.” 

 

Their staring continues until Lisa’s goodbye reaches them both. Dean jumps back, causing Castiel’s hand to fall off his shoulder. Dean clears his throat and shows Lisa out. Ben looks between his father and the angel while rocking on his feet. 

 

“So what are we gonna do today?” he asks, putting his bags on top of the small table in the kitchen. Castiel raises an eyebrow at Dean. His charge bites his bottom lip, an action Castiel realizes is a regular habit. The constant pressure on Dean’s lip makes it red and swollen when he speaks, catching the angel’s full attention. His feathers ruffle a little before he comes back to himself and looks to Dean’s eyes. 

 

Dean pretends not to have noticed Castiel’s intense gaze on his mouth, but can’t help the smug smile on his face as he answers his son. 

 

“Why don’t we go to the park?” 

 

………………………………………..

 

Castiel always found that the best place to see humanity’s true beauty was never in the church, but in children’s playgrounds. Nature envelops these small souls in a warm embrace, showers them in sunshine. Each metal structure melds to fit individual imaginations. Children run through the grass and mulch, share their emotions with each other. The basic connections amaze Castiel. The smiles, the intertwined fingers, the small shoves. Such a simple place showcases everything the angel loved about humanity: the pain, the love, the art, the dreams. 

 

“What are you smiling at?” Dean asks, smiling himself. 

 

Cas holds his hand out at the playground. “This. My father’s creation in it’s purest form.” 

 

Dean looks around at the park. At the older oak trees and the rusting slides. “A rusty jungle gym is pure to you?” 

 

Shaking his head, Castiel laughs. He gazes out at the individual souls, at their pink-tinted joy. He takes Dean’s hand, pushing the images his grace sees into Dean’s soul, so his charge can feel his love for this for himself. Dean gasps when everything in front of him changes. The children turn into candles dancing around the park, their voices no longer grating on his nerves. 

 

After a couple of seconds, the angel takes his hand away. He smiles at the slight part of Dean’s lips, telling Dean to close his mouth with a tap to the man’s chin. Goosebumps rise on Dean’s arms from both the touches and the images still lingering in his mind. 

 

“Do you understand now?”

 

Dean looks over at the cupid, once again surprised by the blueness of Cas’s eyes. He nods, unable to find the right words to explain the leftover joy singing in his veins. 

 

A particularly distressed scream brings their attention back to the playground. Ben sits on the soft mulch with a young girl who’s crying. The boy frowns at the girl’s distress and he looks up at Dean and Cas. He tells the girl something the two men can’t hear, then runs across the park. Grabbing Castiel’s hand, Ben tries to tug the angel off the bench. 

 

Cas looks to Dean for guidance, but the man only shrugs. The cupid lets himself be dragged, pulling his wings tight against his back to keep them from hitting any of the metal equipment. Behind them, Dean shifts on the bench. The new found silence and empty space next to him make him tense. He bounces his leg for a second before standing to go see what the angel and his son are doing. 

 

Ben kneels in front of the girl again. “Anna, this is my dad’s friend, Cas. He’s an angel,” Ben says, chest puffing out with pride. 

 

Anna stares up at Castiel with wet green eyes and sniffles. Her small hands cover a spot on her knee, a line of blood trailed down her leg. Cas squats next to Ben, smiling a little at Anna. “Hi, Anna. Did you get hurt?”

 

The girl nods and Ben acts as her voice. “She fell off the monkey bars. I thought maybe you could heal her or something. Angels can do that right?” 

 

Dean’s eyebrows arch up at Ben’s question. He never thought about what other things angels may be able to do outside of finding some poor bastard’s soul mate. He cross his arms over his chest as he waits for Castiel’s answer.

 

Castiel grins at both Ben and Anna, sensing their faith in him. It makes his grace rise up, thrumming like a plucked guitar string. He’d never been this close to blind trust, to pure hope. It’s intoxicating. His grace flashes in his irises and Ben gasps. Dean stares at his son, wondering what the boy saw in Castiel’s deep eyes. He takes a step forward.

 

An older woman Castiel assumes is Anna’s mother starts running towards them. Her soul quivers with fear, seeing Castiel as a possible threat to her daughter. Cas smiles at her, letting his wings relax around him. He holds his hand out for Anna to take. “I can, yes.” 

 

The girl sniffles again, but puts her hand on Castiel’s. His grace answers to the call of her soul. Power surges through him for the first time since Castiel left Heaven. Anna’s scraped knee heals and the blood disappears from her skin. Dean and Ben both stare, wide eyed and mouths slack. 

 

The woman stops short when she sees the light pulsing from Castiel. Anna turns to see what Castiel’s staring at and smiles. She stands to hug her mother. “The nice angel made my knee stop hurting, Mama.” 

 

Anna’s mother looks down at the young girl, then at the angel who stands before her. She looks Castiel up and down, hands on Anna’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

 

Castiel bows his head in her direction, smiling softly. “You are most welcome. Your daughter is beautiful.”

 

The woman’s smile grows. She nods before pulling Anna aside to speak with her. Ben turns his attention from the couple and towards Castiel. His soul flares, faith bubbling inside him. The brightness makes Cas sway on his feet as he turns to Dean. Raising an eyebrow, Dean holds on to Castiel’s shoulder to keep him from toppling over. 

 

“You okay, buddy? Ya look tipsy.”

 

Cas blinks, still grinning even as he faces Dean’s concern. “The faith… it’s very…” When he takes a step forward and trips, the angel giggles. “I think I need to sit for a minute.” 

 

Concern mixes with amusement as Dean watches the angel’s normally stoic features continue to ooze a satisfied euphoria. The angel’s cheeks are slightly flushed, eyes still flashing with his grace. Dean grabs hold of Castiel’s elbow and leads him back to the bench, shooing Ben away by telling him to go play. 

 

Once sitting, Castiel takes a deep breath to calm himself. He looks down at his hands, then back at the human sitting next to him. Dean’s close, knee touching Cas’s own as he leans in to make sure the angel is okay. Cas licks his lips, a motion that makes Dean shift in his seat. “I apologize for my brief inebriation. Angel graces are very in tune with humanity’s faith in Heaven. I have never been close to a soul who feels that.”

 

Dean presses his lips into a thin as he listens to the angel. He nods along, trying to wrap his mind around the face angels can sense human emotion all on their own. Looking out at the playground, Dean nods to himself. “Sounds like a powerful feeling.”

 

Castiel sits back, hands resting in his lap as he stares into space for a moment. “We were created to care for our Father’s creation. The moment a prayer is fulfilled, that human’s gratitude and faith rush through an angel’s grace. It’s like no other high.”

 

Dean takes in Castiel’s profile. The angel’s face is all sharp angles, yet the far off gaze gives him a soft look of wonder. Recalling the first moment he met Cas, Dean smirks at his first impression of the cupid. Rather than a stoic and aloof creature, Castiel had turned out to be caring, supportive, funny, and much more capable of emotion than Dean ever expected. 

 

“So when you find my soul mate?”

 

Cas finally meets Dean’s gaze again, the wrinkles around his eyes accenting the excitement Dean finds in them. “Your joy and faith and love will fill my grace with a light so beautiful the visage of God could not compare.”

 

Dean swallows, shaking his head and looking away when the angel finishes talking. It takes him a minute before he can look up at Castiel again without the threat of blushing. The silence around them isn’t uncomfortable. With Cas, it’s always comforting.The angel is just as content sitting next to Dean as he is having a conversation. And for that, Dean is grateful.

 

Clearing his throat, Dean leans over and bumps his shoulder against Castiel’s. “Wanna stay for dinner? I’m makin’ chicken fajitas.”

 

Castiel tries to ignore the small leap his heart gives at Dean’s action, smiling at his charge instead. “I would love to.”


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel quickly decides that watching Dean cook is one of the more fascinating things he’d ever witnessed. The human moves confidently in the kitchen. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and a black and red flannel, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Each cut, each smooth motion of his hands and wrists, makes the muscles flex under his skin. Castiel’s eyes focus on that for a while, amazed at the connection between Dean’s wrist and his individual fingers as they clutch the kitchen knives and spatula. 

 

The cupid leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he examines his charge. He silently praises his Father’s work, finding new beauty in the human form. He looks down at his own hand, wiggling his own fingers to see the bones and veins crawl. 

 

The sound of the TV trickles in from the living room, Ben’s laughter filling the space between human and angel. Dean occasionally glances up at Cas, smirking slightly when he notices the angel watching each of his movements. Soon enough, he has the chicken crackling in a sauce pan while cutting up lettuce and tomatoes. Everything besides the meat finished, he grins down at his work. 

 

Dean turns and shouts into the living room. “Ben, come set the table!”

 

The young boy barrels into the room, making quick work of setting up three spaces at the small table by the window. Dean finishes the chicken and scoops the pieces into a bowl. When the humans sit at the table, Castiel stays where he is against the counter. 

 

Ben immediately starts shoveling a mixture of the ingredients onto a tortilla, unaware that the angel hadn’t joined them. Dean, however, stared at Cas. 

 

“You can sit, Cas. I know you guys don’t eat, but ya don’t have to stand there brooding either."

 

Sitting in the chair across from Dean, Castiel stares at the food in front of him. The spices Dean has put on the chicken smell strong. He stares at the flakes of the italian seasoning, unaware of the curious looks both humans give him. 

 

“Would you like to try a piece?” Ben asks, holding half of his own fajita. The boy pushes his plate closer to Cas with his elbow. “You can have the other half of mine. Dad always eat all of his.” 

 

Cas looks from the fajita before him to Dean. His charge shrugs, an invitation for Castiel to try the food if he wishes. 

 

As Castiel eats the other half of Ben’s fajita, a warm feeling starts to trickle through Dean. He stares at his son and the angel he’d become friends with, smiling. Initially, it feels like he drank hot coffee and could feel the liquid travel down his throat and into his stomach. But this feeling moves through his chest, makes his heart flutter. His cheeks flush in his happiness, something that hasn’t happened to him in years. 

 

The way Castiel curiously eats his food, like each bite is a new experience, makes Dean chuckle to himself. He then wonders what Castiel does during feasts or buffets. 

 

“What are ya doing for Thanksgiving, Cas?” he asks, taking a sip of his iced tea. 

 

Castiel swallows and wipes some sour cream from his mouth with a napkin. “Angels do not celebrate human holidays. So I will probably spend the day reading.”

 

Ben looks between the angel and his father as he eats silently. Dean stares blankly at the angel. “Well, do you wanna come over here? You could meet Bobby and Ellen and Sam.” 

 

Dean stops himself before he tells Castiel that he wants to tell his family that he’s looking for a serious relationship again, glancing at Ben as the kid finishes off his juice. 

 

Castiel’s wings rustle happily behind him at the request. Even though he never celebrated the holiday, he always felt jealous of humans. Thanksgiving’s about family, about coming together. He never was close to anyone else in the garrison besides Balthazar and Gabriel, and neither of them cared for the tradition. He always spent the day in his room, wondering if the molecules that make up turkey do taste better when in the presence of loved ones. He grins at Dean. “I would be honored to join your family for Thanksgiving.”

 

“It’s settled then, you’ll come here and I’ll take you over to Bobby and Ellen’s for dinner.” Dean sits up straighter, a flush on his cheeks when he realizes it sounds like he’s taking Castiel home to meet his parents.

 

Ben stares at his father for a second, noting the grin on Dean’s face. The boy smiles to himself, glad that Dean had finally found someone who makes him happy again.

 

………………………….

 

Ben finally asleep in bed, Dean closes the bedroom door with a sigh. He grabs the plastic bag he’d put on the floor and goes back into the living room where Cas sits reading the credits for the movie they just finished watching. The angel’s wings are relaxed against the back of the couch, feathers sprawled out so that Dean can really see the swirl of blue and black. There’s lines across Castiel’s forehead as he squints at the screen in front of him. Dean clenches his fist to keep from reaching out and tracing over the wrinkles with his thumb. 

 

The human stands beside the couch, staring at the words scrolling past. He doesn’t read them, his mind too occupied by the angel he can still see in his peripheral. He clears his throat when the end of the credits make the screen go black. He puts the bag on the couch next to Castiel. “I put your clothes in a bag.” 

 

Castiel looks up at his charge, shaking his head. “I can change before departing, Dean. I do not wish to steal your clothes.”

 

Dean bites the inside of his cheek as Cas stands. The cupid looked so natural in the outfit Dean kept forgetting the clothes were borrowed. Every time he remembered that Cas is in fact wearing his clothes, his stomach drops. Looking the angel up and down once more, the man feels like he could float away into the atmosphere. 

 

“S’alright, Cas. You can just bring em back when you come back,” Dean says, offering a smile he hopes is encouraging and not awkward. “When are you coming back anyway?” 

 

Castiel’s secondary flight feathers shiver when Dean tells him he can keep the clothes for now. Every time he moved, Cas could smell Dean on the fabric. It still catches him off guard, making his grace swirl into a tight coil inside his chest. He stares at his charge for a second, some his earlier anxiety weighing on his wings. “I’m going to assume you do not wish to continue our search while your son is present, so I can resume my duties when you next see fit.” 

 

“I gotta take Ben back to Lisa’s before Monday,” Dean blurts, heart jumping when he realizes he probably sounded too eager to see the cupid again. “The kid’s on break, but they’re gonna go to his grandmother’s house this year. I get Thursday and Friday off. Friday, we can go out and see if ya find anybody.” 

 

Castiel nods, glad that they will be able to get back to the search soon. “I do apologize that it has taken this long, Dean.” 

 

Dean averts his eyes when Cas speaks. If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t want Castiel to leave just yet. He just doesn’t know how to ask the angel to come back even after they find Dean’s soulmate. He still craved that warm feeling of coming home to someone, but somehow that need fades when Castiel’s around. 

 

“I’ve gone years without that special someone, Cas, I think I can handle another week.” Dean smiles a little to accent the lighthearted tone. 

 

The cupid doesn’t respond to the statement right away. Quiet resides in the entire apartment and Dean finds himself shifting his weight from foot to foot. Cas stares openly at him, like he can see everything inside Dean. And Dean thinks that he probably does, that this angel knows more than just the facts of Dean’s life and personality, but what his soul actually looks like. Dean considers looking away, but the glow in Castiel’s eyes stops him. It’s not just the ethereal glow of grace, but a softness Dean isn’t used seeing directed at him. 

 

“You shouldn’t have to wait any longer,” Cas whispers. If Dean didn’t know any better, he would have sworn something like longing lingered in Castiel’s voice. 

 

Dean clears his throat. “You’re doing great, Cas. Stop worrying.” 

 

This time, he goes with the urge to put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Before Dean really knows   
what he’s doing, he’s squeezing Castiel’s bicep under the fabric of Dean’s henley. Cas doesn’t look away from his charge as the human touches him. Cas doesn’t tense up like either them expect. Instead, the touch causes him to relax. That warm connection comforts Castiel more than it should. He should be the one comforting Dean. 

 

With that thought in mind, he places his hand on top of Dean’s. His thumb strokes over Dean’s knuckles. Dean doesn’t pull away; he stares at Castiel’s fingers draped over his. There’s a power behind those long fingers, an ability to do God’s work. Dean wonders if he’s worthy enough to be considered God’s work. 

 

Cas still doesn’t let go of Dean’s hand, the pad of his thumb a whisper against Dean’s skin. “I will see you Monday.” He squeezes Dean’s hand. “Goodnight, Dean.”

 

“Night, Cas.” 

 

With a soft puff of air, the angel and the bag of clothes is gone. Dean can still smell a hint of ozone and sandalwood, scents he links directly to Castiel. It puts a smile on Dean’s face as he gets ready for bed.


	12. Chapter 12

The days leading up to Thanksgiving go by as fast as Dean expects them too. He dropped Ben off at the house he used to live in, recalling the days when looking at the red wooden door made his stomach twist. That Sunday, he patiently waited on the other side of it until Lisa’s new boyfriend opens the door. Dean smiled at the guy, shook his hand, told him to take good care of Lisa and Ben. Then he went home. He didn’t feel the same dread he’d felt a week earlier when thinking about the guy. Instead, he felt excited to be heading back home. 

 

During the beginning of the week, Dean and Cas went about their normal routine at the office. Castiel checked a couple bonds again to be sure they wouldn’t work. The sour flavor to the bonds continued, but Dean’s excitement over Thanksgiving made it easier to ignore. 

 

When the holiday finally comes around, Castiel stands in his room, staring at his closet. From what Cas understands, Thanksgiving is a special event. One where many of the family dress nicely during the gathering. Pushing his cupid uniform aside, he pulls out an outfit he deems appropriate. 

 

Thirty minutes later, he enters the kitchen where Gabriel’s making a cake. The archangel sways his hips, singing along to Boy Problems as he stirs batter. He looks up when he hears Castiel shuffle into the kitchen. His eyes widen as he takes in his brother’s get up. 

 

Castiel wears a white button up tucked into a pair of dress pants. Over the shirt, he wears a tailored suit jacket with a tie the same color as his eyes. Gabriel looks his brother up and down, whistling. 

 

“Damn, Cassie. You clean up nice.” 

 

Castiel rolls his eyes at his older brother, but runs his hands down the front of his jacket. Pouring a glass of water, Cas quickly drinks and studies the clock. He’d told Dean he would stop by the human’s apartment before one to drive over to the Singer residence. 

 

“I take it you didn’t wear that suit for me,” Gabriel snorts, scooping more chocolate chips into the batter. 

 

Castiel sits on one of the stools on the other side of the breakfast bar. “Dean invited me to Thanksgiving dinner.” 

 

Gabriel immediately stops pouring the batter into a non-stick pan and looks up at his brother. Castiel stares into space, completely unconcerned about the fact inviting someone over for a family oriented holiday isn’t normal platonic behavior. Gabe puts down his spoon and rubs his palms together. 

 

“How are things going with Dean anyway?” he asks, leaning against the counter while he waits for the oven reach temperature. 

 

At the mention of the human, Cas immediately smiles. He meets Gabriel’s gaze, wings flexing as if to flap excitedly behind him. “All of his potential bonds have started to turn for the worst quickly, but I suspect it is because he as started growing emotionally attached to someone. I just haven’t met them yet. Hopefully, I can broach the subject with Dean’s brother, Sam. If anyone knows Dean, it’s him.” 

 

The oven beeps behind Gabe, but he keeps his eyes on his brother. The younger angel always took to caring for humanity. The work never bothered him. It wasn’t work to Castiel, it was his purpose. But the far off look on Castiel’s face even when he stares at Gabe makes the archangel wonder what is going on behind those blue eyes. 

 

“You guys do spend a lot of time together, don’t ya. You’re putting a lot of time into this case.” Gabriel turns to put his cake in the oven and start the timer, ears focused on Castiel’s tone. 

 

“It isn’t a problem, Gabriel. Dean is very amicable. We’ve had many conversations over lunch every day. Our outings allow me to continue my work while we share each other’s company.” 

 

Gabriel eats some leftover chocolate chips as he contemplates Castiel’s words. He looks closer, examining Cas’s grace. Excitement dances in bright orange swirls. Pink weaves it’s way through as well, hiding the yellow anxiety in the back of Castiel’s mind. Gabe tilts his head as a chocolate chip melts on his tongue. He hadn’t met this Dean character. But from the way Castiel described things in his reports of the case, Dean is a loyal type. The kind of person who would rather die than let the people he cares about suffer. That sincere devotion is something he shares with Castiel, something Gabriel hopes holds true. 

 

Shrugging and smiling, Gabriel pulls back into himself. “Well, you have fun. Eat lots of pie for me.” 

 

Castiel offers a smile in return. “Thank you, Gabriel. I will see you later tonight.” 

 

And with that, the younger angel disappears. Gabe shakes his head, cleaning up his dirty dishes as he waits for his cake to finish baking. 

 

………………………………

 

The solid knock on his front door makes Dean’s face break into a grin. He jolts off his spot on the couch to open the door. Castiel stands on the other side of the threshold, a dark green bottle in hand with his tan trench coat folded over his arm. Dean raises an eyebrow at the bottle, glancing between the object and the angel’s eyes. 

 

Stepping into the apartment, Cas holds out the bottle for Dean’s inspection. “I felt that I should thank you and your family for allowing me to join your festivities.” Cas’s eyes scan over the bottle before looking at Dean. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly, shoulders slumped. “I hope this isn’t out of line.” 

 

Dean shakes his head, looking up from the Pinot Noir. “No, Cas, that’s cool of you. Thank you.” 

 

Castiel stands straighter, wings stretching out behind him. Dean’s eyes catch on the movement and then notice the entirety of Castiel’s outfit. The fitted shoulders of Castiel’s suit coat slide into a smooth line to Castiel’s waist. The dress pants are pressed perfectly, highlighting the fact the angel is only an inch or two shorter than Dean. 

 

Noticing Dean looking the outfit over, Castiel shuffles his weight. His charge wears a nice pair of dark jeans and a red button up, making Castiel feel slightly overdressed.“Is it too much? I was unsure about what to wear for such an occasion.”

 

Dean chuckles, patting Castiel’s shoulder as he walks past the angel. “You look nice, Cas.”

 

Cas turns his head to look at the man’s hand on his shoulder, but Dean is already turning the TV off and shrugging on his own leather coat. The soft smile that stays on Dean’s lips as they drive soothes Castiel’s own worry. 

 

The silent ride to Bobby and Ellen’s house is a short one. Castiel stares up at the two story house, clutching the bottle in his hand tightly as Dean leads him to the front door. The human doesn’t even bother knocking. Dean just swings the door open, a steady hand on Castiel’s elbow they enter the house. 

 

“Did somebody order a large pizza with extra anchovies?” Dean calls out as he shrugs out of his coat. A loud, short chuckle comes from down the hall. Dean smiles, taking Castiel’s coat as well and hanging it up next to his. 

 

Ellen saunters down the hall with a flour-stained apron wrapped around her chest. Thick hair pulled back into a high ponytail, she’s the picture of motherhood to Castiel. He stands stiffly next to Dean when the woman stops in front of them, hands on her hips. 

 

“Well look at you two,” she says with a grin. “I’d hug ya but I don’t wanna ruin your nice outfits.” 

 

Castiel blinks, surprised that the woman would wish to share such an intimate moment with him. He’s about to introduce himself properly when Jo appears in the kitchen doorway. “Mom, mac n cheese is in the oven.” 

 

The younger woman immediately pulls Dean into a bear hug, patting Dean’s back. Dean holds her tightly, picking her off the ground with a chuckle. When he puts her down, she turns her attention to Castiel. She looks between the man she sees as her brother and his new friend, holding her hand out for him to shake. “Nice to see ya again, Castiel.” 

 

Shaking her hand, Castiel hopes his smile appears polite rather than strained. Jo’s wariness of him causes his wings to tense up. Before he can feel uncomfortable under her curious gaze any longer, Ellen makes a surprised sound. She takes the wine from Castiel’s hand, eyes warm when she looks up. 

 

Castiel blushes at Ellen’s surprise, raising his arm to gesture at the bottle weakly. “I wanted to thank you for inviting me into your home. I hope it suits your tastes.”

 

Ellen pats Castiel’s shoulder in a manner similar to Dean. “No need to thank me, honey. Any friend of Dean’s is a friend of ours.” 

 

Next to the surprised cupid, Dean’s neck flushes. Watching the woman who practically raised him interact with Castiel causes his hands to buzz.

 

Ellen pulls back, marching down the hall and into another room they can’t see. Her voice echoes behind her though. “Bobby Singer, get your ass downstairs and see what Castiel brought us!”

 

There’s some low grumbling and stomping to be heard, the couple talking in more hushed tones in the other room. Jo still stares openly at Castiel, so he looks back at her. He isn’t sure what to do with himself now and suppresses the urge to wrap his wings around himself so no one can see him. 

 

Just as Dean is about to break the odd tension between them, there’s a loud knock. The three have a chance to step back before the door opens again and a large man walks in. The man immediately smiles upon seeing Dean in the hall, and the two men embrace tightly. Dean strokes the back of Sam’s head, not letting go for a couple more seconds. 

 

“Good to see ya, Sammy.” 

 

“You too, Dean,” Sam says, grinning at Jo and Castiel over Dean’s shoulder. Jo shoves her arm between the two brothers to wrap her arms around Sam’s waist. 

 

“My turn,” she says smugly as she rests her cheek against Sam’s chest. “It is really good to see ya, Sam. You’ve been away from home too long.” 

 

Dean huffs when Jo shoves him away, but smiles. He looks at Cas, soul more relaxed than Cas has seen in their week together. Dean bumps his shoulder against Castiel’s, causing the angel to rustle his wings and smile. Sam and Jo watch the interaction, Jo with her arm’s crossed over her chest and Sam with raised eyebrows. The younger Winchester moves his hair out of his face, then extends his hand out to the angel. 

 

“Hello, I’m Sam, Dean’s brother,” he says, voice polite even as he inspects Castiel. 

 

“Hello, Sam. I’m Castiel, a friend of Dean’s.” The cupid withholds his actual title, unsure if Dean wants his family to know why Cas actually entered Dean’s life. When he glances over at Dean, the human smiles as if pleased by the words. Castiel finds himself smiling back even while he holds Sam’s hand. 

 

After a second, the angel realizes that staring at someone else isn’t very polite and turns his gaze back to Sam. To Dean and Cas, the moment was nothing, a tiny second compared to the long minutes of staring they had grown accustomed too. To Sam, that one second seemed a whole lot longer. 

 

Ellen returns to the foyer once she hears Sam’s voice, starting a whole new round of hugging and informal greetings. Castiel watches the family interact, following them when they move into the living room. Bobby sits on the couch, thanking Castiel in a gruff voice. The angel stares at the older man for a second, but smiles. He immediately starts using first names with Dean’s family, growing more relaxed as they begin to discuss Sam’s trip rather than paying attention to Cas. 

 

He sits in a lone arm chair next to the couch, both Bobby and him quietly watching the others talk enthusiastically. Every now and then, Dean would look away from his brother and at Castiel. Every time, he found Cas intently watching them with a small smile. Seeing Cas there makes things feel even easier than they normally do, makes the space feel more like home. Dean swallows the feeling when Ellen orders him and Sam to set the table. 

 

Dean looks to Cas, glancing at his surrogate father for a second. Dean puts a hand on Castiel’s knee, smiling encouragingly. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

 

Castiel raises an eyebrow at his charge. “Dean, I am a trained warrior of God, I think I will survive without you.” 

 

Dean blinks at the confidence in Castiel’s eyes, surprised the socially awkward angel could feel comfortable in such a scenario. Bobby snorts, waving his hand at Dean. “You got somethin to be doin, boy, not baby sittin a grown ass man.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes as he departs the room. His promise does bring Castiel some comfort, but he finds the silence between him and Bobby as comforting as the constant chatter. The man doesn’t expect him to make small talk. Instead, they just sit and listen. 

 

In the dining room, Dean joins Sam in setting the table. They set plates down over the nice table cloth Ellen pulled from the attic. Dean runs his fingertips over the fabric, smiling at the softness he remembers from every holiday here. Forks, knives and spoons clink in Sam’s hands as he goes around the table, long hair swinging in front of his face. 

 

Sam looks up at his older brother, watching Dean count the places. “How was your week? You didn’t call me.” 

 

Dean bites his bottom lip as he thinks about it, trying to remember the last time he called his brother. Before he met Cas. Before he had someone to actually sit down with during lunch. “That actually has to do with something I gotta tell ya.” 

 

“You bet you have something to tell us,” Jo interjects, arms laden with bowls and a plate of biscuits. “Since when do you talk to angels?”

 

Sam nods along with Jo’s words, just as curious. Dean had never mentioned having friends outside of work, and certainly never said anything about angels. Dean sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 

“Cas is a cupid,” Dean mutters, looking down at the table cloth. “Earlier this week, I paid him to find… well, he uses the word soulmate. We haven’t found the person yet, but we’re still looking.” 

 

“You rented a cherub off Craig’s List?” Jo asks, putting her hands on her hips. “You can’t just pay some random angel to follow you around looking for your ‘soulmate’. It doesn’t work like that.” 

 

Dean shrugs, staring at Sam. The younger Winchester just stares back, eyebrows furrowed. “It can work like that. Cas is from a group of angels that specialize in this kinda thing. It’s called Cupid’s Company. Stupid fucking name, I know, but they have helped people.” 

 

Sam rubs his chin, thinking about how Dean and Cas leaned into each other’s spaces earlier. “So why did you invite him to Thanksgiving dinner?”

 

Dean’s ears turn hot as he looks at the space between Sam and Jo’s shoulders. “He was just gonna sit around by himself all day. He’s been worried bout the search, blaming himself for not finding someone yet. I didn’t want him stewing in all that shit.”

 

Jo walks around the table and puts a hand on Dean’s cheek. At first, she doesn’t say a word, only offers him a small smile. Then she finally whispers, “I’m glad you wanna find someone, Dean.” 

 

With that, she kisses his cheek and leaves the room to grab more of the food. The only sounds in the house are Ellen and Jo’s mingled voices coming from the kitchen. Dean wants to ask Sam to say something, to say anything. He feels some thoughts get lodged into his throat before he can say them. His brother wouldn’t judge him for wanting to find someone. 

 

And like he always does, Sam immediately gets it. He cuts through everything Dean says, points out the things Dean never notices. 

 

“Even if Castiel doesn’t find you someone,” Sam says, voice quiet. “I hope you realize you still have him.” 

 

Dean stares at his little brother, lips parted. Dean knows he wouldn’t send Cas away even after they found his soulmate, that when the day came for Cas to leave, he would ask him to come back. 

 

“I know, Sammy,” Dean says right before the moment is crashed by Ellen and Jo appearing in the dining room. Ellen starts handing the boys pans and bowls full of food, rubbing her palms together as she looks over her hard work.

 

Table completely set, Ellen calls Bobby and Castiel into the dining room. They all sit at the table, Bobby and Ellen at the ends, Jo and Sam across from Dean and Cas. Castiel takes in all the food before him: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, biscuits, mac and cheese, cranberry sauce, cider and wine. Dean watches the angel’s awe, giggling to himself as the wine is passed around. 

 

Drinks in hand, they all look around at each other. Bobby clears his throat when Ellen looks pointedly at him, causing Jo, Sam and Dean to smile. 

 

“Since this is yer first Thanksgiving with us, Castiel, you wanna say what you’re grateful for first?” Bobby asks, everyone glancing over at the angel. 

 

Castiel’s wings stiffen in surprise, but he smiles at his companions and nods. “I am grateful to be able to celebrate my first human holiday with such a lovely group of people. I am grateful for my brother, Gabriel, and my best friend, Balthazar. And I am grateful to continue serving humanity and making people happy.” 

 

As he speaks, Castiel looks at the people sitting around him. His eyes falls on Dean as the man smiles and nods his approval.

 

They go around the table saying what they are thankful for, until it gets to Dean. Castiel watches Dean’s profile with wide eyes, leaning half an inch closer to the human as he talks. 

 

“I’m thankful for Ellen’s good food, ‘specially the pie. I’m grateful for my family, my son, and my health. And I’m grateful for friends who stay by your side.” Dean holds his glass up, the others mimicking him. “Happy Thanksgiving, y’all. Now, let’s eat.”

 

Castiel takes food as it’s offered to him, making small piles of everything on his plate to try. Dean’s elbow brushes against his arm. Each touch reminds him of how close they are sitting together, reminds him that he should move over a little to give Dean space. Yet he stays, pulled in by the soft light above the table and the laughter on everyone’s tongues. While the others start eating and telling each other stories, Castiel silently takes it all in. His grace pulses in his chest. 

 

As he lets the conversation flow around him, Castiel feels belonging for the first time since he left Heaven. 

 

………………………………….

 

Hours of talk and lounging around the living room pass in slow motion for Castiel. He’s seen many spectacles, but the show of this human family’s holiday proves to be the most interesting thing he’s seen. When Dean decides to depart, it’s dark outside. There’s a soft chill to the air, giving their goodbyes shape. Ellen does hug Castiel before he walks down the steps, thanking him for coming. The moment makes his grace pulse again and he grins at all of them. 

 

As he gets into the Impala’s front seat, he has a sated grin on his face. Dean’s turned the heat on, thawing out the cold touch of leather under them. The radio fills the cab with a static rendition of Led Zeppelin’s The Rain Song. Castiel looks out at the half moon sitting in a nest of stars and smiles. He relaxes against the seat, grace humming in his throat. 

 

“Thank you, Dean,” he whispers, not looking away from the sky as warm air tickles his feathers. 

 

Dean’s rolls his head to look at Castiel, body slumped over the seat. The dulling security light Bobby left on at night makes Castiel’s features glow. It’s like looking one of those old photographs of a sunset. Dean’s heart pounds in his ears. 

 

Hazy from all the food and cider, Dean continues to stare at the angel next to him. An actual angel, in his front seat. When Dean doesn’t respond or start driving, Cas glances over at his charge. Castiel can see the strong line of Dean’s jaw with the man’s head tilted back, can trace the smooth line of Dean’s neck to his shoulders. But what makes his breath catch in his chest is   
Dean’s eyes, half lidded but shining with something Cas can’t name. 

 

As soon as Dean hears the Castiel’s stuttered breath, Dean’s fingertips tingle. Dean gently pinches the cupid’s chin, thumb sitting under Cas’s bottom lip. He holds Cas there during the few seconds it takes him to brush his lips against Castiel’s. Castiel freezes immediately, wings shuddering with a sound like a waterfall as Dean kisses him. 

 

The sudden lightning bolt that shoots through Castiel’s grace makes the space between his and Dean’s lips crackle. The radio tuner fluctuates and the security light explodes into sparks. Dean’s fingers drag static across Castiel’s cheek bone as he pulls him in for a third time. Castiel’s hands move outward, clinging onto the front of Dean’s button up under his jacket. His fingers shake even as his eyes droop shut. His grace pulsates to match Dean’s rapid heart beat from just one kiss, a throbbing he can feel all the way in his toes. 

 

Even as Castiel leans into Dean’s chest, the conscious part of him pulls away. He uses his grip on Dean’s chest to push his charge away. Unable to look Dean in the eyes, he pants for a second. He has to let go of Dean, palms buzzing against Dean’s chest. Dean isn’t his; he’s looking for Dean’s significant other. Dean hired Castiel to look for his soulmate. Curling himself into the corner of the seat, Castiel’s wings pull forward to wrap around his front. 

 

The excitement originally coursing through Dean’s veins freezes as he looks at Castiel. The blood leaves his face and his vision blurs for a second. He reaches out to touch Castiel’s shoulder, but lets it fall back into his lap. 

 

“Shit, Cas, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

 

Castiel sits up again, eyes flashing bright blue as he glares at Dean. He pokes the human sharp in the middle of the chest. “No you shouldn’t have. I may be your friend, Dean, but I’m still a cupid and you are my charge and what you just did crosses a boundary I never expected you to ignore. I have a job, Dean. One you’re paying me for, if you need reminding. I am here to find your soulmate, not to fill your loneliness temporarily.”

 

Dean gapes at the angel. Castiel’s wings arch above him, feathers stiff as they loom over Dean. The righteous anger and tint of hurt in Castiel’s eyes floors Dean. He opens and closes his mouth to say something to Cas, but before he gets the chance, the passenger seat is empty. 

 

The air in the cab is suddenly cold. Dean shivers from the leftover shock in his system, staring at the glowing numbers on his dashboard. He slams a hand against his steering wheel. “God dammit.”


	13. Chapter 13

Dean doesn’t really remember the drive home from Bobby and Ellen’s place. He just remembers how chilly the air is against his neck and cheeks. A breeze pushes itself under his coat and goosebumps rise on his skin. He shivers, the cold settling in his joints as he enters his apartment. Turning up the heat, he puts on his warmest pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt. 

 

His lips tingle with whatever electric current coursed through Castiel’s body when they kissed. It tickled when he drank from the cold glass bottles. He stared at the black screen of the television, wondering if he should try to distract himself with mindless plot lines instead of thinking about   
the angel. 

 

As he nurses another couple bottles though, he can’t keep his mind off Cas. Trying to force himself to forget the startled look on Castiel’s face just makes him feel more guilty. So he forces himself to think about that moment over and over as his punishment. 

 

Dean knows people don’t just go and kiss someone they’ve known for less than two weeks. Each conversation he has with Cas feels real though, like he’s truly getting to know the angel. Every time Cas stares at him, meets his gaze, Dean feels like Cas knows everything about him. Cas can see his soul, of course he knows Dean. 

 

It’s not just that though. It’s how the angel looks at nothing but him when they go out together. It’s how Cas tilts his head when Dean makes a reference he doesn’t understand. It’s how Cas smiles at the people around him when he does look up. It’s how his nose scrunches up when he drinks black coffee. 

 

Dean sighs, finishing off his fourth beer. The glass clicks against the coffee table top and he stares at the empty bottle until his eyes burn. When he finally blinks, his eyes stay closed for a while. 

 

There’s a shuffling in the living room that yanks Dean’s attention away from his own thoughts. His hand is outstretched, ready to snatch up one of the bottle in front of him, but he freezes in his seat. Cas stands in front of him, still wearing the same suit as before. 

 

Dean swallows as he stares up at the angel. Castiel says nothing, head tilted down so Dean can’t see his eyes. And does Dean want to see those eyes. He wants to put his hand in Castiel’s, tell him that he’s sorry he messed this up. Nothing comes out, and Dean stays seated. 

 

Without saying a word, Cas looms over Dean’s recliner. Cas holds Dean’s cheek in his hand, the touch cooler than Dean remembered. Cas finally looks at him, eyes so dark the blue is gone from them. Dean’s breath catches in his throat and he thinks of pulling away. Instead, he stays stuck as Cas leans in close enough Dean can feel the angel’s breath on his lips. He shudders, but doesn’t close his eyes. He tries to speak again, but nothing comes out. There’s just silence. Not the warm silence Dean had grown accustomed to when he’s with Cas. This silence feels wrong, cold and tense. It makes goosebumps rise on his skin again. 

 

Cas never closes the distance between them. The angel glares at him for what feels like hours before pulling away. Turning on his heel, Cas starts walking away. All Dean can see in the darkness that now shrouds his apartment is those wings glowing pale blue. Dean scrambles to dislodge himself from his chair and chase after Castiel. He starts running into what looks like a railroad tunnel, black surrounding him on all sides. He calls Castiel’s name over and over, but he can't hear his own voice. The only thing in that tunnel is the glowing of Castiel’s wings, which go farther and farther ahead no matter how fast Dean runs. Soon, the glow gets swallowed by the shadows and the man is by himself. 

 

Just as he’s about to scream for the angel to come back, Dean shoots up in the recliner. His sweatshirt sticks to his back and arm pits. His chest heaves, heart banging against his ribs. It’s light in his apartment, and a glance at his watch tells him it’s almost noon. Luckily, he has today off, it being the day after Thanksgiving. 

 

He crashes back against the recliner with a sigh, dragging the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his forehead. He hadn’t had a nightmare that bad since before he met Castiel. Closing his eyes causes the image of Castiel’s glowing wings to come back and he shudders, suddenly cold despite his warm clothes. 

 

He forces himself to get up, peeling off the damp clothes and taking a warm shower. He tries scrub away the memory, skin red and sensitive when he gets out of the shower. Once clean and dressed, Dean glares at the mess he’d left in his living room. Something in his gut tells him Castiel won’t be stopping by any time soon. So to fight off the weight that seems to be resting on his shoulders, he focuses on cleaning every inch of his apartment for the rest of the weekend.

 

……………………………………….

 

In Heaven, the passage of time is diluted. To human souls, it doesn’t exist any longer. For angels, it feels infinite. To Castiel, the weekend after Thanksgiving is longer than his entire existence. 

 

Time ticks by with such a slowness that Castiel doesn’t even remember anything before that. His bedroom blurs around him, his senses dulled by the fact he hasn’t moved in three days. The few moments of hunger, thirst, and sleep he does feel pales to his memory of Dean’s lips on his. 

 

That kiss is all his existence is now. 

 

Those green eyes staring at him, wide with fear of rejection and hope for acceptance. Those lips curling up into something that never became a smile. Castiel ripped that smile from Dean when he flew away. But every time Cas thinks about it, he didn’t know what else he could have done. If he stayed in that car with Dean, he would have never left. He would have stayed there, driving into the horizon so the sun never rises and the moon keeps smiling at them. So that the day would never end and Cas can keep kissing Dean until his last breath. 

 

And that’s something he can’t have. If he had stayed, tomorrow would come and change it all. The morning after that kiss, Cas went back to being Dean’s cupid. Castiel admits to himself he’s a placeholder for what the human really longs for. An angel isn’t a soulmate. 

 

So he continues to sit on his bed, hands folded in his lap. He had enough thought to change from his suit and into his pajamas, the soft fabric lulling him further into his own internal rant. A knock echoes in his room and he slowly raises his eyes to his door like he hasn’t seen anything in years. 

 

“Cassie? Can we come in?” Balthazar asks, voice soft enough to be hesitant. Castiel swallows and pulls his legs close to his chest.

 

Before he even provides an answer, Balthazar and Gabriel enter. The two angels frown as Castiel wraps his wings around himself to make a shroud of blue and black. Balthazar sits on the bed next to Castiel, Gabriel at his feet. They say nothing at first, just let their graces call to Castiel’s. Both his brother and best friend are colored with yellow anxiety. It’s almost nauseating. 

 

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Gabriel asks, putting a hand on Castiel’s knee. 

 

Cas looks between Gabriel and Balthazar, shaking his head. 

 

Balthazar clears his throat, calling Castiel’s attention to him. “Dean called. Multiple times. He’s   
worried and wishes to apologize to you.”

 

At the sound of the human’s name, Castiel’s heart thuds. The physical reaction startles the cupid and his wings pull closer to his body. He doesn’t react besides that, looking down at his knees.

 

“Castiel, what happened between you two?” Balthazar asks. “We're asking as your friends, not your employers. Please.” 

 

“He kissed me,” Castiel whispers, still staring at his knees. Admitting to what happened makes Castiel’s heart skip a beat again. Shivering, Cas pulls his wings further around himself to hide his face. 

 

Balthazar and Gabriel look at each other. The archangel wants to smile, amazed that someone loves his little brother like he does. Gabriel had already brought the topic up with Balthazar, both wondering when Castiel would realize what was happening. Gabe squeezes his brother’s knee. 

 

When no one speaks after the confession, Castiel’s wings move aside like curtains opening. He gazes up at the two angels sitting on his bed and sighs. “I apologize for the sudden unprofessional shift in Dean and I’s relationship. I will continue my duties as his cupid, but politely create some distance between us. I assure you, I can finish my task.”

 

Balthazar snorts at Castiel’s words and Gabriel shakes his head. Castiel’s eyebrows furrow at their reactions. 

 

“We know you are capable of continuing your duties, Cassie,” Gabriel finally says. “What we want to know is how you feel. Not as Dean’s cupid, but as yourself”

 

Castiel stares at his older brother, frowning. He glances at Balthazar, surprised to find the other angel giving him a similar curious expression. There’s another moment of silence as Cas gathers himself. He’d spent the past three days trying to tell himself to ignore his feelings, to pull himself together enough to face his charge again. 

 

“Even if I admit my feelings for Dean Winchester, he doesn’t actually want me.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel leans closer and puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I think he does.” 

 

Cas tries to open his mouth to interject, to present one of the many arguments he’d created in his mind over the weekend. Holding up a single finger, Gabriel cuts his brother short. “No, listen, Castiel. You should check the bond. Angel grace is similar to the human soul, it’s possible.”

 

“What you’re suggesting should be impossible,” Castiel snaps, trying to push down the sense of pink-tinted hope that rises in his chest. 

 

“Think about it, Castiel,” Balthazar says, putting his hand on Cas’s knee. “Our Father wants us to love humanity, is it so crazy you would actually fall for one?”

 

Castiel blinks, staring at the space beyond Balthazar and Gabriel. The words soothe him slightly, breathe life into the daydreams he wishes would stop. His voice is small when he finally says, “Please tell Dean I will visit him tonight so we can figure this out before I resume my duties tomorrow morning.” 

 

Both angels nod, leaving Castiel to his thoughts. Cas stands, stretching out his arms above his head. Some of his bones crack from sitting in the same position for so long, a reminder that his body is very human despite his wings. Castiel’s reflection also stretches out his wings, and the cupid notices the bright red color of his shirt. The same Henley Dean had let him borrow a week ago. 

 

Swallowing, Castiel looks down at the fabric covering his chest. It no longer smells like the human, but the knowledge that it once did comforts Cas. He considers wearing the shirt when he goes to face Dean to keep him steady, but decides that it would probably startle his charge. 

 

Instead, he changes into one of the few t-shirts he owns. Gabriel had bought it for him a while ago, a band logo sprawled across the worn fabric. Castiel had heard some of Led Zeppelin’s music, including in Dean’s car. He smiles a little at the memory as he changes into one of his own pairs of jeans. He puts aside Dean’s clothes. He’ll wash them and return them tomorrow. 

 

And if he wore the Henley tonight after his inevitable conversation with Dean, then that’s something only he knows.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter guys! I hope you enjoyed! Please follow me on tumblr as caswingsuniverse and be sure to check out all the awesome work everyone has done for the DeanCas Tropefest.

The quietness in Dean’s apartment drives him crazier than usual. Sometimes he likes the space, likes having time to himself after all the noise that fills his life. But three days of silence from Castiel and no motivation to go out anywhere makes him restless. He turns the radio on, then off again after the first chords of Can’t Fight This Feeling plays. He washes the few dirty dishes he has, takes out the trash, then cleans his bathroom in a frenzy similar to the week before. 

 

Every time he notices the weight of his cell phone in his pocket, he checks to see if he has any  
new messages. Gabriel had called him around lunch time, warning him that Castiel would come to Dean’s apartment to discuss their new plan of action. The formal language of the phone call made Dean’s throat tight. 

 

He puts away the cleaning supplies, then washes away the smell of bleach on his skin. By the time he pads back into his kitchen for a glass of water, it’s almost 4 in the afternoon. He sighs, sitting at the small table in his kitchen and staring at the door. Logically, Dean knows Castiel might suggest another cupid. That Cas can’t work with Dean anymore. That he might only come to Dean’s place to tell the human goodbye. 

 

Another, less logical part of Dean’s brain wants to believe the angel will stay despite Dean’s dumb actions. That would mean Cas continues searching for Dean’s soulmate. The thought makes Dean shift uncomfortably in his seat. He doesn’t want some stranger, someone that Castiel thinks may be suitable for him. He wants Cas. But finding his soulmate will help him forget the angel who made him rethink everything he thought he wanted in a partner. 

 

Dean follows the lines of grain in the table as he gets lost in thought. Each dark brown path twists around the others, following a pattern Dean can’t figure out. The action keeps him busy as he waits. 

 

Half an hour passes, and Dean makes a sandwich to keep his hunger sated. He brushes his teeth to give him something to do. His reflection hasn’t changed in the two weeks he’s known Castiel. He knows that. Yet somehow, during the past week, he looked better. The lights don’t drain the color from his cheeks, his eyes don’t look sunken in. He shakes away the thoughts as he rinses his mouth out. He wipes his mouth dry with a towel when there’s a knock on his door. 

 

Dean would be lying to himself if he says his lungs don’t hiccup at the sound. He starts breathing after a second, jogging down the hall. He bites his lip as he puts a hand on the locks. Once the door’s thrown open, the tension he didn’t realize was in his shoulders and back dissipates into a slight tremble. 

 

He tries to hold back a relieved sigh as he stares at the angel in his doorway, but fails. “Cas…”

 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel responds. He tries to not look directly into Dean’s eyes. Focusing instead on the spot between the human’s eyebrows. Dean sighing his name sends a shiver through his grace. He’d hurt Dean. Facing that fact proves harder than the cupid anticipated. “May I come in?”

 

“Yeah!” Dean says, clearing his throat when the word comes out too eager. “Yeah, come on in.” 

 

Dean steps aside so Castiel can step into the apartment that’s now familiar. Dean closes the door  
as he examines Castiel’s attire. The faded Led Zeppelin shirt causes Dean to smile, as does the view the jeans give him as the angel walks over to the table to sit. Dean immediately looks down at the floor, berating himself in his head for checking out Cas after what happened just a couple days before. 

 

Sitting across from the angel, Dean taps the table with his knuckles. “Before you give me the whole spiel about professionalism and what not, I just want to say I am sorry. I explained the situation to Gabriel so you don’t get in trouble. And I understand if you don’t want to be my cupid anymore, I crossed a line.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel simply says, staring at his charge with wide eyes. His wings stay still behind him as he tries to hide how Dean’s words affect him. 

 

The sound of his name makes Dean stop his apologetic babble. He swallows and nods, turning down his eyes once again. The fact Dean, someone who always came off as confident despite his insecurities, can’t meet his gaze makes something shift in Castiel. Dean’s features soften in the afternoon light, the dusting of freckles across his cheekbones more apparent when the human blushes a light pink. The man’s fingers shift on the table and Castiel can see the scars there, can see the life Dean’s lived before this. And instead of becoming more determined to find Dean someone he deserves, he remembers Gabriel’s words. 

 

“I plan on continuing my work as your cupid,” he says, still staring at Dean’s hands. His grace slithers towards Dean instead of just pulling out the human’s soul. Castiel can feel Dean’s regret, guilt and hope spill over into his grace. 

 

“I know that you are sorry, Dean. And I want you to understand that I reacted that way due to my own fear. Not from disgust.” 

 

His celestial form wraps itself around Dean’s soul, pushing out forgiveness. Green eyes flash up to the angel, a gasp falling from Dean’s lips when he sees the brightness shining past Castiel’s pupils. Dean immediately relaxes, slumping into his seat as he feels warmth trickle through his bloodstream. 

 

“Cas?” he whispers, afraid that if he blinks the cupid will disappear and take this feeling with him. 

 

Castiel’s wings start to shiver with the current of power coursing through him. He draws Dean’s soul closer, intertwining it with his grace to peer into the connection. 

 

Instantly, Castiel’s senses are assaulted with the sensation of being in the Impala. His body  
vibrates with the thrum of an engine. The smell of leather winds it’s way through his grace as the pounding of wind fill his ears. Like flint against steel, the connection sparks a never ending series of memories neither Cas or Dean has lived yet. Images of them kissing, holding hands, watching movies, walking with Ben, cooking together, sleeping together, rain down on Castiel’s grace like a waterfall. 

 

The connection breaks with a snap as Castiel stands abruptly. His chair falls back against the floor with a loud crack. Dean quickly stands and moves closer to Castiel. He puts his hands on Castiel’s shoulders even as the angel’s wings stretch outward. The feathers rustle, light still shining from the cupid. 

 

“Cas? Cas are you okay?” Dean asks, hoping he can break through Castiel’s dazed and frozen state. 

 

Blinking, Castiel meets Dean’s worried gaze. He can sense the pounding rhythm of Dean’s heart and he puts a hand on Dean’s neck to feel the pulse against his palm. His own breathing is shaky, wings fluttering behind him. 

 

“I found it,” Castiel murmurs, stroking his thumb over Dean’s throat. 

 

“Found what?” Dean asks, swallowing at the gentle touch. The light emanating from Castiel fades into a dull glow. 

 

Castiel starts to laugh, grace buzzing under his skin. The way Castiel’s skin crinkles around his eyes makes Dean want to smile despite his confusion. 

 

“Your Bond, Dean. I’m your soulmate.” 

 

Dean doesn’t even register his shocked gasp. He’s too busy grinning at Castiel, days worth of worry now forgotten. 

 

“Oh thank God,” he mutters, throwing his arms around Cas’s neck and kissing the angel. 

 

This time, Castiel doesn’t stay frozen. He wraps his arms around Dean’s waist so that they’re  
flush chest to hip. The touch makes Cas shiver and clench his fingers against Dean’s shirt. Dean rests his forehead against Castiel’s, eyes closed as the idea settles in. 

 

“If you would have me, I’d love to spend the night,” Castiel whispers, tilting his head to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Dean’s lips. 

 

Dean nods, tilting his head so he can kiss Castiel again. “Are you propositioning me?”

 

Castiel’s cheeks flush, but he smirks as he stares at Dean. His grace tingles, body aching to touch more of Dean, to never let him go again. “I believe so, yes.” 

 

Laughter fills the kitchen, Dean leaning into Castiel’s embrace to keep himself from falling over from chuckling. His cheeks turn bright red, eyes shimmering when he looks back at the angel. “Never thought you’d be the type to make a move, Cas.”

 

The cupid raises an eyebrow, his wings arching up above his head. His primary feathers spread, tracing over Dean’s sweatpants. The touch sends pinpricks of heat through him and he grins at the human still in his embrace. “Oh?” 

 

The simple word weighs heavy on Dean’s ears, a challenge in Castiel’s eyes. Dean swallows, unable to look away from Castiel’s gaze. “Yeah, you just… seem shy.” 

 

As Dean stutters around his words, Cas slowly walks them closer to the wall. The angel leans their combined weight against it, grinning at Dean’s wide eyes. Cas moves his hands to Dean’s hips, squeezing them as he kisses along Dean’s jaw. He licks his lips and whispers in Dean’s ear. “Why would I shy away from you, Dean?” 

 

A soft whine escapes Dean’s throat, his head falling back against the wall with a thunk. He can hear the heaviness in those words, the truth behind them. The cupid isn’t going to pull back and hide himself, not anymore. Cas’s palms are hot and clammy as they slide under Dean’s shirt. The human shudders underneath the gentle touch. Cas’s wings rustle again, the sound drowning out everything except Dean’s heartbeat. Cas starts tracing the tip of his nose down the curve of Dean’s neck. 

 

“Quit teasin, Cas,” Dean mumbles, pulling the angel closer. Castiel laughs to himself before kissing the juncture of Dean’s neck and shoulder. 

 

While he doesn’t have much hands on experience with such activities, Castiel has been around long enough to understand what he wants and how to do it. His teeth scrape against Dean’s sensitive skin as he sucks hard. 

 

Dean hisses at the jolt of pain, jerking his hips out. Cas keeps mouthing at the spot, licking it lightly in apology. Grace twists and turns through Castiel’s body, making every inch of him quiver as he explores Dean’s chest with his hands. 

 

When Castiel’s palms brush over Dean’s nipples, the human arches up onto his toes and gasps. Castiel smiles against Dean’s skin, purposefully dragging his thumbs over them again. Dean bites his lip to keep from moaning. He yanks at Castiel’s hair, pulling the angel back for a bruising kiss. Dean’s thankful for the wall behind him, his legs shaking as Cas rubs his chest. 

 

The human notices that Castiel doesn’t go much further than kissing him over and over. So, Dean opens his mouth, tracing over Castiel’s bottom lip with his tongue. Cas opens his mouth, following Dean’s actions as they take turns exploring the other’s mouth. 

 

Kissing becomes smooth for them after a couple minutes. The feel of Dean’s lips leading his own is something Castiel’s sure he’ll never get tired off. Dean rocks forward, searching for friction against his semi-hard dick. Cas uses the motion to slide his hands around Dean’s waist and down the human’s back. His pushes past the waistband of Dean’s sweatpants, humming into Dean's mouth when he touches the bare skin of Dean's ass. He squeezes, using the leverage to pull Dean closer. He rocks his hips against Dean's slowly, mimicking Dean's early action. Both men gasp at the added pressure. 

 

With his lips parted and hands clinging to Cas’s shoulders, Dean is more beautiful than Cas has ever seen him. They continue to rock together, Cas watching Dean's face with each movement. Dean meets Castiel’s stare, smirking a little at the awed expression. Dean drags his hips against Castiel’s, letting himself moan out the angel’s name while keeping eye contact. 

 

The sound makes Castiel’s grace shiver, wings flaring out. Running with instinct, Cas lifts Dean off the ground, the human’s back still against the wall. He strokes his hand over Dean’s thigh, the other resting against the wall next to Dean’s head. He’s capable of holding up Dean’s weight, but his body spasms with shudders with every movement. 

 

Dean wraps his legs around Castiel’s waist, laughing breathlessly at the show of strength. He kisses Cas softly, hands framing the angel’s face. He moans when he feels Castiel’s jean covered erection thrust against his ass. Breaking the kiss so he breathe, his eyes fall on the wings trembling behind Castiel. 

 

“Can… Can I touch em?” Dean murmurs, swallowing when Cas starts peppering his neck with kisses again. Castiel’s thrusts stop as he nods, moving his wing into Dean’s reach. 

 

Dean combs his fingers through the feathers. They feel like velvet on his skin, the touch sending an electric zing through Dean’s arm. Cas lets out a quiet rumble against Dean’s shoulder, wing pressing into the touch. Dean fists his fingers in the feathers after dragging his blunt nails across them. Cas grunts in surprise, hips thrusting up against Dean. 

 

“Like that, angel?” Dean asks, voice low. The sudden power shift intoxicates him, as is the almost numbing tingle in his arm. 

 

Castiel moans Dean’s name to show his agreement, thrusting again when Dean keeps petting his wing. His movements become erratic the more Dean touches him, grace throbbing through all his nerve endings. Dean’s own whines of pleasure at the friction on his dick encourage Cas to keep moving against his charge. Not just his charge, his soulmate. 

 

The onslaught of desire and adoration pools in his abdomen and he rocks against Dean faster. 

 

“Dean,” he gasps out, hands scrambling against the human. He grips Dean’s shoulder, squeezing so hard it’s sure to leave a handprint shaped bruise as he drags Dean’s weight against him. Dean groans from both pleasure and pain, eyes drooping closed as his own climax builds. 

 

The light above them flickers. Dean’s left over bottle shatters on the table. The radio in the living room and the TV turn on. Neither man is aware of the energy pulsing from them as they chase down their high. 

 

When Dean moans the angel’s full name again, hands in Castiel’s hair and feathers, the angel comes. He let’s out a startled gasp of Dean’s name, grace exploding into prisms of color inside his body. The electricity in the house cuts out with a hiss. The shock wave of grace rocks through Dean’s soul and his own orgasm hits him hard. There’s a dead silence in the aftermath. 

 

Dean let’s go of Castiel’s wing, heart still pounding in his ears. He pets Castiel’s hair and shoulders, body thrumming. Cas preens under the touch, arching up like a cat as he places a chaste kiss on the hickey he’d left on Dean’s neck. The action is so tender against his sensitive nerves it makes Dean start laughing. 

 

Castiel pulls his head back, lips swollen and eyes still glazed as he squints at Dean. “What is so amusing?”

 

Dean shakes his head, patting Castiel’s cheek as he continues to laugh. “I haven’t come with my clothes still on since I was a teenager.” 

 

The angel’s pink cheeks flush a darker red, but he smiles. He kisses the small dimple on Dean’s cheek, a sense of belonging settling in his grace. “I assume that means my coital skills are more than satisfactory?” 

 

“If that means you’re good in the sack, yeah, Cas. It was fantastic.” Dean chuckles. Castiel’s proud grin makes Dean’s stomach flip. He runs his fingers gently through Cas’s hair, smiling softly. This angel is his. The thought amazes him. 

 

As he settles down, he becomes aware of the drying come in his pants and the lack of light in the room. Nothing seems to be on, not even the street lamps outside. He raises an eyebrow as Cas lets him stand shakily on his own two feet. They still remain in each other’s space, touching everywhere they can. 

 

“The electricity go out?” Dean asks, looking at the blank microwave clock. 

 

Castiel stares down at his feet, wings pulling up tight against his back. “Yes, throughout the  
entire neighborhood. My climax caused a mass short circuit.” 

 

Dean whistles, then grins. He takes Castiel’s hand and squeezes it. With a blink, Castiel restores the power of the neighborhood, everything within Dean’s apartment back to normal. The human shakes his head, patting Castiel’s shoulder as he walks past to his bedroom. “You’re somethin else, Cas.” 

 

Castiel turns on his heel to follow Dean to the bedroom, squinting at Dean as the man starts to undress. Looking at Dean without pants on makes Cas forget what he had been about to say, instead he stares at Dean as he cleans himself off with his sweatpants. When Dean turns to dig around in his dresser, Cas takes the opportunity to look at the man’s backside. 

 

Dean glances over his shoulder, smirking. “Like what ya see?” 

 

Castiel nods, entering the bedroom to kiss the back of Dean’s neck. “You’re very attractive,  
Dean.” 

 

Dean slips on a pair of boxers, then holds out a pair for Cas with a smug grin. “I’m sure ya wanna change outta those jeans before we go to bed.”

 

“Yes, thank you.” Castiel smiles back, quickly changing into the clean boxers with a relieved sigh. Dean’s eyes stay on Cas, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he watches the angel take off his pants. Cas looks down when he notices Dean’s stare, grace glowing with pride. 

 

Taking Castiel’s hand again, Dean leads the angel to the bed. They both get under the covers, facing each other. Something about this feels more intimate than the moment they shared in the kitchen. It feels more real. Because now Dean has someone in his bed he knows will be there every morning. It’s something neither angel or human expected, but are grateful for just the same. 

 

Dean shifts closer to Castiel, wrapping an arm around Cas’s waist. Cas wraps his arm around Dean’s as well, one wing pushing the blankets aside so he can keep his partner safe. Dean smiles at the light touch of the feathers, nuzzling Castiel’s chest. 

 

“I love you, Castiel,” Dean whispers. He doesn’t lock up under Cas, doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t stumble. Instead, he feels calm, even smiles as he says the phrase. 

 

Cas’s grace turns pink at the words, and he smiles. He rests his cheek against the top of Dean’s head, feeling like he’d finally come home. 

 

“I love you too, Dean Winchester.”


End file.
